Danse Macabre
by Rubiks
Summary: Satanic murders are taking place in small, isolated village in Georgia. The BAU soon realise that this is no ordinary case, and protecting their own lives becomes just as crucial as catching their killer.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do in fact own Criminal Minds and all the characters associated with it…Wait…Hang on…Sorry, that's Ed Bernero. Ooops.

**Author's Note(s): **I cannot tell a lie, the reason I haven't finished my other story yet is because this idea stole all of my attention and I've been trying to write it for the past week. I wanted to try something different. My mission, is to update every two days, and as I've already written the first four chapters that's going to be fairly easy for at least a week :)

This is set post-Gideon and pre-Rossi.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 1

JJ tapped her pen in a relentless staccato rhythm against the table in front of her. In her other hand she held the final typed up draft of her report from their most recent case and was carefully scrutinising it for any omissions or errors.

The room she sat in was not an empty one, besides herself there was a tall man with piercing dark eyes and hair to match. He sat on the chair opposite JJ's and was currently sharing irritated glances with a receptionist, who also sat in the room. The man, who was one of the higher-ups in the FBI, cleared his throat loudly.

The tapping stopped momentarily, "Excuse me," JJ snapped, "If you don't mind, I'm trying to concentrate."

"Listen, Miss Jareau–"

"_Agent_ Jareau."

"Agent Jareau," the man agreed readily, "I just need you to sign it. You've already read through it once."

"I'm just being thorough," replied JJ in clipped tones, resuming the steady tapping of her pen.

"I can understand that, Agent, but as you know we are running on a schedule," said the man, looking pointedly at the clock hanging on the wall.

"I'm almost finished," said JJ through gritted teeth.

The man sighed and shared another annoyed look with the receptionist, who was making a poor attempt at pretending to work whilst she quietly listened to the conversation taking place in her waiting room.

"Your team are waiting for you," said the man, impatience showing in his voice, despite his efforts to quell it.

"What's left of my team you mean," said JJ bitterly.

For the first time, the man looked sympathetic. JJ instantly decided that his pity was far worse than his impatience, so she skipped ahead in the report and signed her name resolutely at the bottom. She then took the second copy of the report and signed that one too. Anyone who was watching might have thought she was angry at the paper judging from the way she glared at it and jabbed it with her pen.

"Thank you, Agent Jareau," said the man, relief evident in his voice. He plucked one of the reports from her hands, "I'll take this one and you can hand that other one to Doctor Miller."

"Fine."

The man stood up and bowed his head in her direction, "Until we meet again, Agent."

A distracted mumble was all JJ could muster up by way of good bye, her attention was too focussed on the ominous looking door that she was only moments away from walking through. She wasn't entirely sure what she was more scared of; talking about it or facing her whole team for the first time since it had happened. She took a deep calming breath and steeled herself against the onslaught of emotions that were threatening to rise to the surface. Out of the corner of her eye, JJ could see the receptionist watching her with a pitying look on her face, and it was more than JJ could stomach. So she took one last deep breath before strolling determinedly over to the room she was so afraid of.

JJ hesitated for a moment, but another quick look at the receptionist gave her the courage she needed to turn that door handle and enter the room.

The first thing that struck her was how the rest of her team looked like they hadn't slept in about six years and she fleetingly wondered if she looked the same. The pure exhaustion was palpable, and it was with a heavy heart that JJ accepted this fact and walked forward to put the second copy of her report on the desk of the psychiatrist that sat before them, surveying them all with polite interest. He smiled at her over his half-moon spectacles and gestured for her to sit down in the only available seat, on the couch next to Emily.

Emily offered JJ a weak smile as she sat down on the opposite end of the small couch, but JJ saw how her firm grip on the walking stick, that she was now forced to use, tightened so much that her knuckles turned a stark white.

"Excellent, now that we are all here I think it's time for me to introduce myself," began the psychiatrist, "My name is Doctor Arthur Miller, and I'm here on behalf of the FBI to perform your annual psych evaluations."

"You say that as though we would have been dragged here regardless of what our last case had been," said Reid sourly from his comfortable armchair in the middle of the room.

Doctor Miller didn't seem at all phased by this attitude, he actually smiled slightly, "You are quite right, Doctor Reid. Had your last case not been so…_difficult_…you would not have been required to attend this session."

Reid didn't respond, but continued to look almost unseeingly at the man before them through his lifeless eyes.

"Well, I have all your written reports now, but I would like to hear the story from you. Why don't you begin, Agent Jareau? Why did you choose this particular case?" Doctor Miller said, his kind, blue eyes fixing themselves on JJ. He had obviously done his homework if he knew it was JJ's job to sift through the cases.

Shrugging slightly, JJ answered in the most neutral voice she could muster, "The same way I choose every case. They were the people that needed the most help in which the likelihood of an actual serial killer was higher than the other cases on my desk. Where we could be of the most help."

"It all sounds very clinical," said Doctor Miller with a smiling nod.

JJ opened her mouth to say that it wasn't, but quickly shut it. The twinkle of sardonic amusement in the psychiatrist's eyes seemed to increase.

"Okay then, Agent Jareau. Why don't you explain the case to me as it was presented to you," said Miller.

"Or you could just read it in the reports we were all forced to write," said Reid sarcastically.

"I could," Doctor Miller agreed with a slight bob of his head, "But I'd like you to humour me please."

JJ grimaced and began to tell the story.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Okay, JJ. What do we have?" said Hotch, leaning back in his chair.

JJ pointed her remote control at the projector screen behind her and the pictures from two crime scenes appeared. She didn't look at the pictures though, she had already seen enough of them for them to have been imprinted in her brain for a good long while.

"First victim, Gregory Sangster, age thirty, was found stripped and with his throat cut on his front lawn…"

"Is that a…pentagram?" said Garcia, obviously horrified. For some reason the fact that Garcia never tried to hide her feelings was comforting to JJ, it reminded her that there where in fact still human.

"The amount of blood suggests that it was done while he was still alive," Reid commented.

"Why would someone do that to another person," said a dismayed Garcia.

"The second victim, Catherine Jacobs, age thirty-five and mother of two, was found in her kitchen, throat slashed and lying in a pentagram drawn in blood. Forensics haven't come back yet but it looks like it was her own," continued JJ, looking at each of her team member as she spoke, "The first victim was found just over a week ago and the second victim last night. It all happened in a small village called Augusta Falls in Georgia."

As soon as the name of the place had left JJ's lips, Garcia's fingers where moving at the speed of light across the keys of her laptop.

"The pattern changed," Emily observed, then to Morgan's questioning look she added, "The first pentagram was carved into the chest and the second was drawn around the victim. It's just strange."

"You think they may not be connected?" asked Morgan.

"It's a possibility," said Emily slowly.

"Augusta Falls," Garcia piped up, "Population is a grand total of one hundred and eighty. Very rural and very religious."

"That locals aren't going to be happy with us being there and asking questions," Hotch remarked, looking thoughtfully at the pictures up on the screen.

"No, they aren't going to like the idea of the unsub being one of their own," Reid agreed.

"The sheriff and deputy sheriff are very eager for our help, so at least we'll have the entire police force on our side," said JJ, rather cynically.

"The help of one point one percent of the population. Awesome," said Reid with a wry, half smile.

"Garcia," said Hotch, switching to leader mode, "Find out all you can about the victims and see if you can get me a list of everyone that lives in the area."

"I'm on it, G-Man," said Garcia, shutting her laptop with a loud click and standing up to exit the room.

The Hotch turned to the rest of the team, "Wheels up in an hour."

--

JJ loved the jet. She really did. Shortly after she had first begun working with the BAU, she decided that her eventual mission in life was to steal it somehow so she could use it for her own personal holidays and to generally avoid pesky traffic. It was comfortable, it had it's own bar, and it was faster than any commercial flight she could get on. What more could a woman want from her transport? The only problem was Morgan. He had expressed similar wishes since she had known him and it would be stiff competition to steal it before he did. A very small smile curled her lip as she let her thoughts wander to how exactly she would thieve the jet. It was much easier to do that than to think about the case they were soon going to be working on at least.

Naturally, JJ couldn't indulge in her own thoughts for too long before the rest of her team started to discuss theories and previous cases. She had missed the beginning of the conversation but forced herself to pay attention as Reid began to reel off the type of unsub they were most likely going to be looking for.

"The first type consists of teenagers who are rebelling against society and are using the idea of Satan to do so. Their violence usually isn't planned and their intention isn't to do actual harm, but they can become aggravated by drugs or alcohol and that's when violence occurs," said Reid.

"If that's the case then it's not looking like our unsub is a teenager," said Morgan darkly, "This looks like a serial killer."

"That would be type two," said Reid, continuing as though there had been no interruption, "The serial killer who chooses to blame his killing on outside forces. He doesn't kill because he believes in Satan, he believes in Satan because he kills."

Mulling this over, JJ decided she didn't like this idea at all. A peculiar feeling began to settle itself in her stomach, and JJ suspected it was unlikely to leave until the case was over.

"We need to be careful with this one," said Hotch, looking up from the case file in his hands, "Satanic elements can influence even the most experienced investigators, and we're not immune. So keep an eye on the locals and keep an eye on each other."

Everyone nodded and seemed to drift off into their own thoughts. All except Reid anyway.

"Do you believe in Satan?" he said to no one in particular, "An omnipotent being dedicated to the corruption and destruction of mankind."

"I'm not sure man needs the help," said Emily with a raised eyebrow as she looked at the crime photos once again. JJ was inclined to agree with her.

Morgan snorted softly, "That's the spirit."

Emily smiled apologetically and JJ found herself shaking her head slightly with suppressed amusement.

If Hotch had even been listening to the exchange he made no indication, he did however look up again and say, "We should all try and get some rest. I have a feeling it's going to be a long day."

No one saw fit to disagree and they all dispersed to different sections of the plane to either try and catch some z's or have some general quiet time. Even though she tried, JJ found she couldn't sleep. Something about the look of fear on the second victims face was playing on her mind.

Eventually, JJ managed to drift off into a restless doze.

--

**Author's Note(s):** If you're at all interested, I'm going for longer chapters this time around. Extra detail and suchlike to see if I can't improve my writing.

The place that this is set is fictional…I think. I did however steal the name from a book I'm reading at the moment called _A Quiet Belief in Angels_ by _R.J. Ellory_. I would recommend it.

I realise that I stole some of these lines directly from _Lucky_ and I apologise for that…But they were just too good not to use. Plus, I have no actual knowledge of satanic crimes and couldn't for the life of me think of anything to add.

On a completely random note, did you watch new Lost on Thursday? I've loved Ben and his baffling ambiguity since he did his little _Of Mice and Men_ speech at the beginning of season 3, but it's now been taken to a whole new level. If Michael Emerson doesn't win an Emmy for that performance I will be appalled and horrified.

Anywho, any constructive criticism will be greeted with a jaunty fanfare.

Thanks for reading,  
Rubiks :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **Good afternoon, all. Thank you for reading thus far and I extend my eternal gratitude to SLITH, MDarKSpIrIt, bumblebee917 (Hehe Emily isn't blind), smokeylove, paradisebeach, didi2909 and irismoon for taking the time to review :). Anywho, hope you like this next chapter.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 2

"A Satanist, hmm? How very exciting," said Doctor Miller enthusiastically.

"Exciting isn't exactly the word I would use," said Hotch darkly.

"No, perhaps not," agreed Miller solemnly.

"I still don't see why you couldn't have just read this in the reports," said Reid in an annoyed tone, shifting in his seat to a more comfortable position. He had obviously resigned himself to the fact that they probably weren't getting out of that office for quite a while, and Hotch reluctantly thought to himself that the boy was probably right.

The psychiatrist cocked his head to one side and regarded Reid closely, "Don't you?"

Reid looked away uncomfortably and the psychiatrist seemed satisfied, much to Hotch's annoyance.

"So you briefed your team, Agent Jareau, and then you hopped on your airplane to your final destination?" said Miller, moving his attention back to JJ, who Hotch thought looked even less like she wanted to be there than anybody else in the room, including Reid.

"No," said JJ shortly, "There was nowhere to land so we had to go to the nearest airstrip, which was more than two hundred miles away, and then drive the rest of the distance."

"Oh dear, that can't have been pleasant," remarked Miller, "Especially after a long flight."

No, it certainly had not been, but Hotch wasn't about the say that to this man, and neither apparently were the rest of his team. When Garcia had told them that the village they were going to was in the middle of nowhere, Hotch hadn't really thought much of it. That was until he actually arrived there anyway. It was literally hundreds of miles away from civilisation, and even if you were patient enough to drive all that way to get somewhere, there were large forests and even a mountain surrounding the area. A person really had to know where they were going if they wanted to get through the thick greenery and across to the other side. It had been the very definition of the word isolated. Something which had proved to be rather a mammoth problem while they were there.

After a short pause, Miller surveyed everyone in the room once again. He didn't seem at all put out by their lack of response. If anything it only served to intensify the perpetual look of sardonic amusement he wore.

"What did you talk about? In that cars that is," said Doctor Miller finally.

Everyone looked up with a mildly baffled look on their face.

"I fail to see how that is relevant," said Hotch, glad that his voice could still remain completely neutral.

"I'm just interested," said Miller, resting his fingers against the edge of his desk, "Who did you drive, Agent Hotchner? And who went in the car with your escort?"

Neither wanting to confirm or deny Miller's assumption that he himself had driven the car for reasons that were unknown to him, Hotch simply said, "Agent's Morgan and Prentiss rode with the deputy sheriff."

Much to Hotch's annoyance, Miller again nodded his head as thought he had thoroughly expected this piece of information. He then turned to Emily, who had thus far been staring at the wooden walking stick that rested between her fingers. Hotch felt a pang of sadness at the sight of his relatively young co-worker holding something that would usually be associated with the elderly, he hid his feelings well though.

"Agent Prentiss, you've been awfully quiet so far," said Miller mildly, "What were you doing on your lengthy drive to Augusta Falls?"

"I was reading," replied Emily, raising her eyes to meet the doctors.

"I see," said Miller with a head bob, "What were you reading?"

It took a moment for Emily to answer. Hotch could tell that she was resisting the urge to tell Miller that she had been reading a book in that sarcastic tone she usually reserved for such stupid questions.

"Slaughterhouse-Five," said Emily finally.

A small smile quirked the psychiatrists lip, a move that did not go unnoticed by Emily judging by the way her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"I see. Do you enjoy science fiction books?" asked Miller, amusement evident in his voice.

"No I don't. That's why I read them," said Emily caustically. Hotch would have smirked at this had he been able to muster up the energy.

Millers smile never faltered, "Okay then, why don't you tell me what happened when you arrived."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

By the time they finally arrived at their destination, it was pushing five pm. It had been a long and exhausting journey and the rain clouds that rolled over head were making it very dark. They all exited their respective vehicles and were greeted by the town's sheriff outside the tiny police station.

"Hi there, folks," he said, moving forward to shake Hotch's hand. Hotch's well seasoned mind quickly registered the fatigued look on the man's face and the dark circles around his eyes.

"Good evening, I'm Special Agent Hotchner, and these are Special Agents Jareau, Morgan, Reid and Prentiss," said Hotch, nodding in the direction to each of his team members as he said their name.

"I'm Sheriff Thorn, but you can call me Steven. I'm so grateful to you guys for coming out here. I know it's a fair trek," said the sheriff wearily.

"It's not a problem," said JJ from beside Hotch.

Steven Thorn smiled weakly at her before glancing at the rest of the team, obviously trying to memorise their faces and names. He was a man in his early forties and gave the impression of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. He then turned back to Hotch.

"Would you and your Agents like to go to your rooms now and rest for tomorrow?" he said, apparently taking in how tired the team were from all their travelling.

Thinking quickly, Hotch replied, "No, we'd like to go to the crime scene first."

The sheriff looked relieved and turned to his deputy, "Take the agent's bags to their rooms and then come and meet us, Dave."

"Sure thing, boss."

Dave the Deputy got back into his car and drove down the road.

"Okay then, well if you'll follow me please," said Thorn, and he then began strolling in a northern direction.

The team followed in relative silence. The 'town' was tiny. A white picket fence adorned each house and Hotch could see that they all also had their own little gardens. It's Stepford like qualities led Hotch to the conclusion that the occupants weren't exactly the door locking type. They had probably never had any safety related concerns before so it would have been easy for the unsub to break into any one of these houses without arousing anyone's suspicions. That would make it harder to tell whether the victims knew the unsub and let him or her in, or if it was an actual home invasion.

From behind him, Hotch could hear a muttered conversation between Morgan and Emily. Not loud enough for the Sheriff to hear, but loud enough for Hotch to pick up on it.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Emily.

"I know. I'm having Stepford Wives flashbacks," replied Morgan, and Hotch almost smiled as he recalled thinking the exact same thing when they had first arrived.

"You're a fan of The Stepford Wives then?" said Emily, amusement clear in her voice.

"No," retorted Morgan defensively, "I watched it with an ex and I wouldn't say no to Nicole Kidman so…"

"Ugh, really? I wouldn't have thought you'd go for the pale and interesting look," said JJ, who had apparently also been listening to the conversation.

"Hey, she has a hot body."

Hotch could practically feel the disgusted look that he knew JJ and Emily were sharing right now. He was actually grateful when he realised that they had arrived at the crime scene just so he could forestall the argument about sexism that he was sure would be coming if that conversation continued.

"Here we are," said Sheriff Thorn sadly, standing before a house that looked less like a crime scene than anywhere else Hotch had ever been. There was no police tape around, none of the parasitic media leaning over trying to get a look at the body, and outwardly there was nothing that distinguished it from every single other house within seeing distance.

They followed the sheriff into the house as he spoke about the people that lived there, his voice shook slightly which meant that he knew the victim, "Catherine Jacobs, her husband, Barry and their two kids Molly and Katie live here. A lovelier family I've never met in my life. They both help out at the church and the kids are really polite."

"Where are they now?" asked Reid.

"They are staying in one of the rooms at the B&B you'll be staying in. There are only four rooms in the place though so I'm afraid some of you will have to share. It's a small place though and we very rarely get visitors…" said the sheriff, looking at Hotch apologetically.

"That's not a problem," Hotch assured him.

The sheriff then paused outside the door that Hotch knew to be the crime scene.

"Um, I've already been in there for longer than I can stomach. Is it okay if I wait outside?" said Thorn, looking a little green.

"Of course," said JJ, patting him sympathetically on his shoulder on the way past.

The first thing that struck Hotch was the amount of blood. Everywhere. From the corner of his eye, he saw JJ turn a shade whiter. Morgan, Emily and Reid were in full profiler mode though.

"It looks like the pentagram was drawn in her blood and then she was placed there," said Reid thoughtfully.

"Meaning she wasn't killed in that exact spot," agreed Morgan, looking around the room for the most likely location. Hotch followed his example and looked too.

Something seemed to have caught Emily's eye, because she walked over to the other side of the room to where the oven sat, door slightly open. She took a plastic bag out of her pocket and wrapped it around her hand so as not to disturb any possible finger prints as she pulled it open.

"Look, there's blood on the inside of this door and muffins half cooked," she said in a carrying voice.

Hotch frowned, "So she was baking and then the unsub attacked her from behind."

"And then switched off the oven so it didn't set the house on fire?" said Emily with a faint trace of puzzlement in her voice.

"Well if the unsub is trying to send a clear message then he-"

"Or she," Reid interrupted.

"Or she," agreed Morgan, "Didn't want it to be destroyed by the house being set on fire."

"So the motive behind this crime isn't just Satanic sadism, it's to send a message," Hotch said quietly.

"What message?" said JJ, her eyes fixed on the dead woman lying in the middle of the floor.

Nobody had an answer for her. So instead Reid changed the subject.

"The lack of gender preferences makes it hard to tell if the unsub is male or female," he said musingly.

"And the lack of security in this place makes it hard to tell if the unsub was let in or came in without the victims knowing," added Morgan.

Taking one last look around the room, Hotch decided that there was no more they could learn. Besides, the sight of Catherine Jacobs, mother of two, was making him feel faintly ill. He motioned for the team to leave and they followed him without question out of the room and back out into the street, where Sheriff Thorn was waiting for them.

"Any ideas?" he asked hopefully upon seeing them.

"Nothing clearly defined yet," said JJ kindly, "We'd like to speak to the family of the victims and meet some of the people that live around here before we make any intuitive leaps."

The sheriff did a good job of hiding his disappointment at these words and actually managed a small smile and nod.

"Well you could go and talk to the husband now if you wanted, but his kids are probably in bed now so it might not be the best time," he then said in a worried voice.

"That's okay, Sheriff Thorn," said Hotch before JJ could answer, "We can wait until morning."

At that point, Deputy Dave pulled up in his car beside them. He rolled down the window of the worn looking SUV, "You folks done here now? The doctor has agreed to come and take the body now so he can do the autopsy."

"Doctor Brennan is a good man," added Thorn distractedly.

"Yes, thank you," said Hotch.

The deputy nodded and then drove off again, presumably to get the coroner.

"I'll take you to the B&B," said the sheriff, watching the deputy leave.

--

They had walked for another fifteen minutes before arriving outside a small pub turned B&B. At first JJ thought she'd be glad at the opportunity to stretch her legs after all that travelling, but she simply felt completely drained and had not enjoyed the speedy power walk at all. Everyone had walked in silence, lost in their own thoughts about the case.

As they arrived, they were greeted by a short, kindly man who had shown them to their rooms immediately and told them that he would have some dinner waiting for them in half an hour. JJ and Emily were sharing a room, as were Morgan and Reid. Hotch had naturally got the single room to himself.

The first thing JJ did when they arrived in their room was to go and have a shower. She wanted to wash away all traces of the day as soon as possible. She let out a sigh of relief as the hot water began to run down her back, but unfortunately, it didn't matter how hot she turned the water, she couldn't seem to rid herself of the peculiar feeling in her stomach. The sooner this case was over, the better.

Dinner was a quiet affair. They had been provided with some homemade shepherds pie that JJ had to admit was the best she'd ever eaten. Whoever had cooked this had some real kitchen related talent.

After they had finished, the team said their good nights to one another and then went to bed. JJ even managed to convince Emily to go to sleep and not read like she normally would. The light sometimes kept JJ awake and she was determined to get as much sleep as possible before tomorrow. But as she lay there in the darkness, JJ found that sleep was eluding her much like it had done on the plane.

"Hey, Emily," she whispered after a while.

"What?" Emily mumbled, her face buried in her pillow.

"Are you awake?" she only realised the redundancy of this question after the words had already escaped her lips.

"No."

"Oh. Right."

There was silence for a few moments. Then Emily sighed and rolled over so she was facing JJ.

"What's up, Jayj?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know," JJ admitted, "I just have a bad feeling about this case."

"What kind of bad feeling?" said Emily, using her elbow to prop her head up slightly.

"I don't know," repeated JJ, "I just think that there is more to this than we've realised. We're so isolated out here…It could be dangerous."

Nodding, Emily seemed to think about this before saying, "Our cases are always potentially dangerous, JJ."

JJ suppressed a sigh. Emily obviously didn't understand what she was saying and JJ found that it rather annoyed her. She was suddenly struck with a flashback of when Reid had been kidnapped. She had asked Emily why none of what had happened out in the field bothered her. So once again, JJ decided to pose the same question she'd asked then. Maybe now that they were closer, the other woman might be more inclined to share.

"How come none of this stuff gets to you?" asked JJ.

By the narrowing of Emily's eyes, JJ guessed she had made the connection between that question and the first time she had been asked it too. So before Emily could answer in the same way as last time, JJ added, "And don't give me any of that crap about compartmentalisation."

"Then I'm afraid you're getting no answer at all," said Emily, suddenly sounding wide awake.

JJ sighed, "All right then. Good night, Emily."

A guilty look crossed Emily's face, "I'm sorry I'm not making you feel any better," she said, and she genuinely did sound sorry. So JJ decided to forgive her.

"It's okay," she said with a small smile, "I'm sure I'm just being paranoid. We should try and get some sleep now."

Emily nodded, "Good night, Jayj."

"Good night."

--

**Author's Note(s):** See, I told you I was going to write longer chapters :)

Anyway, I have a 2000 word practical report due in tomorrow morning that I've had for a month and still haven't started. So wish me luck.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter,  
Rubiks :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **A big thanks to smokeylove, tearbos, SLITH, bumblebee917 (Hehe I don't know you know, from a logical standpoint it would make sense for God and Satan to be on equal footing power-wise to keep the natural balance in order. Ya know…Yin and Yang, Night and Day, Right and Wrong. Mutually dependant opposites that cannot live without the other. Maybe I'm wrong.), and LadyPuzzler. Also everyone else reading.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 3

"It sounds like a rather gruesome crime scene," said Doctor Miller in a very matter-of-fact way.

"Well most murder scenes are," said Reid caustically.

"I suppose you're right, my young friend," said Miller good-naturedly. Reid had to bite his tongue to stop himself from snapping that they weren't friends. But the doctor had the most annoying habit of seeming to know exactly what everyone was going to do or say. It was almost as though he could read minds. It was actually a similar feeling he had about Gideon, except with Gideon it was less infuriating.

An awkward silence plagued the room once more, and Reid couldn't help but shift in his seat uncomfortably. He briefly caught Hotch's eye but quickly looked away. Their team leader's sickly pallor and thin face was highly disturbing. Reid was used to Hotch always being in control, unflappable and unyielding. Seeing him all pale and underweight was the stuff of nightmares as far as Reid was concerned.

"So how did you all sleep on your first night there?" said Miller, his eyes drifting to JJ.

"Like a baby," JJ lied. She then continued to look him in the eye until Miller looked away. Reid was impressed by her sheer force of will.

"I see," replied Miller, understanding punctuating his every word, "And where was your technical analyst while all this was going on?"

"Garcia was and is back at Quantico," said Hotch sternly.

"So she didn't call you with any information during that whole day?" said Miller curiously.

"No," said Morgan, speaking for the first time, "There was absolutely no cell reception in that entire place. She couldn't get in touch with us until we called her using the landline."

Trust Morgan to get defensive as soon as Garcia was mentioned. Reid was glad that his relationship with Garcia had still remained constant. When they had been taken to the hospital, Garcia was first on the scene and holding Morgan's hand until he had finally woken up. She had even flown all that way on a commercial flight just so she could be with them.

"But surely she could have found a phone number to call you on before you called her? I mean, isn't seeking elusive information part of her job description," said Miller, raising an eyebrow in Morgan's direction.

"She tried," said Morgan, practically glaring at the psychiatrist, "We just weren't in the area and it was too late by the time we could have called her back."

"She obviously didn't try hard enough," said Miller. Reid wished Morgan would realise that the psychiatrist was simply trying to bait him. He was getting some sort of sick kick out of riling Morgan up.

"Hey," said Morgan harshly, "Penelope Garcia is the best damned technical analyst in the entire FBI so you better watch your mouth."

Doctor Miller held his hands up in defeat, "Fine," he said, "I apologise."

Making a disbelieving noise, Morgan continued to glower at the man. Reid lowered his eyes to stare at his shoes. He really wished he could just go home and go to bed. Maybe he could have a hot chocolate like his mother used to make for him whenever he was sick. On the rare occasion that Reid had been ill as a child, his mother always had seemed to be in her lucid phases and would make him scrambled eggs and then hot chocolate. She would then read to him until he fell asleep. It was the only time that she ever took care of him rather than the other way around.

"So," Miller continued, "No cell phone reception? That must have been awkward."

"We had a couple of walkie-talkies," said Emily rather distantly.

"You had to stay in two groups then to keep in contact?"

"We would just arrange to meet back at the station at certain times to compare information if we needed to," Hotch told Miller.

"That makes sense," Miller replied cheerfully.

"I'm glad you approve," Hotch said darkly.

Miller smiled lightly, "So, why don't you tell me about your second day then?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Emily awoke with a small jolt. She couldn't remember what she had been dreaming about, but whatever it was had not been good. Letting her head drop back onto her pillow, she shifted to look at the clock. It was almost seven am. It was then that she noticed that JJ wasn't in her bed anymore. She sat up unwillingly and looked over to the closed bathroom door, where the distinct noises of someone brushing their teeth could be heard.

Reluctantly, Emily forced herself to get out of bed and walked over to her ready-bag and wardrobe so she could select some clean clothes to wear for the day. She bit back a groan as a sharp shooting pain accosted her neck. What little amount of sleep she had eventually got had not been comfortable, she hoped they solved this case soon because she wasn't sure if she could hack sleeping in that uncomfortable bed for too long.

The bathroom door handle turned, and out stepped JJ, fully dressed and ready for the day ahead. She offered Emily a small smile.

"Good morning," she said.

"Morning, JJ. How'd you sleep?" Emily asked, knowing full well that JJ had barely slept at all. Not only had Emily noticed that JJ wasn't asleep in her own intervals of wakefulness throughout the night, but Emily's carefully trained eye could detect the flawlessly applied make-up that JJ was using to cover the bags under her eyes.

"Fine, thank you," JJ lied easily, "You?"

"Same," replied Emily, picking up all of her clothes and a clean towel and making her way past JJ into the bathroom.

Emily made quick work of showering and generally getting ready for the day. She had become accustomed to sorting herself out in the morning in record time since she joined the BAU. She even found the time to fold up her pyjamas neatly and put them under her pillow. An ex-boyfriend had once called her anal retentive because of her excessive need to keep things folded, neat and tidy, but as far as Emily was concerned, tidiness was just good sense really.

By the time she was ready, she still had a good ten minutes before her and JJ were to meet the team downstairs for breakfast. JJ was holding the remote control for the TV and was flicking through the channels with a bored expression on her face.

"I'm surprised this even works," JJ said darkly, "Nothing else in this place does."

"Well I suppose something had to work eventually," said Emily, sitting down on her bed and leaning back on the headboard.

There was a very quiet knock on the door. JJ shot Emily a puzzled glance before getting up to open it.

At the door stood a young girl who couldn't be more than six years old. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she had cried herself to sleep that night, and Emily immediately saw the similarities between this small girl and the victim they had seen yesterday.

The little girl looked up at JJ with tearful eyes, "Are you here to find out what happened to my mommy?"

JJ and Emily exchanged a quick glance, "Why don't you come in and sit down," said JJ kindly.

The little girl nodded and followed JJ into the room. She then climbed up onto the bed and sat facing JJ, occasionally glancing towards Emily who still hadn't moved.

"What's your name, sweetie?" asked JJ gently.

"Molly," the girl sniffed, "Are you going to find out who hurt my mommy?"

Even though JJ's face remained utterly cool and composed, Emily could tell that this conversation was breaking her heart.

"Yes we are, Molly," said JJ, reaching forward to hold the girls hand.

A single tear rolled down the girl's cheek, "Why would someone do that? She was the nicest and best mom in the world."

"I don't know, honey," JJ replied, squeezing Molly's hand just a little.

Molly sniffed again, "Daddy says mom is in heaven now. And once, the priest told us that good people get turned into angels when they go to heaven. I think God must have turned mommy into an angel straight away."

"I'm sure he did," said JJ, pulling the girl into a brief hug. Emily then caught JJ looking up beseechingly, as though praying for strength. She then stood up and pulled the girl to her feet as well. "I'm going to take you back to your dad now, Molly. He might be wondering where you are."

Emily then watched sadly as JJ led the girl out of the room.

--

Reid waited for Morgan impatiently by the door. Morgan was currently on the phone to Garcia and since Reid could only hear half of the conversation, it was making very little sense to him.

"It's creepy here I tell you…No, I'm talking _Sleepy Hollow_ creepy, gorgeous…," at this point Morgan laughed, Garcia had obviously said something to amuse him, "I know. You wouldn't last ten minutes out here. No internet…" Morgan laughed again, "Okay then, I'll call you as soon as we've done questioning some of the locals…Yep…Try not to miss me too much, doll face."

Then after putting the phone down, Morgan turned to face Reid. Finally.

"Keep your shirt on, youngster. I'm coming," said Morgan in an amused tone. Reid simply rolled his eyes and led the way out to meet the rest of the team downstairs.

Hotch, JJ and Emily were sat around the same table they had eaten at last night. They were eating some well buttered pieces of toast and Reid suddenly realised how hungry he was.

"Morning, guys," said Morgan, sitting down next to JJ.

They all exchanged good mornings as Reid immediately began to munch on the toast provided for them and helped himself to a generous amount of the coffee that also decorated the table.

"What did Garcia have to say?" said Hotch eventually.

"She said that she had the entire population of this village running through her database last night and only one person has a criminal record," replied Morgan.

"Who?"

"She said his name is Jeffrey Zusak, arrested for a couple of petty theft crimes and then moved up to battery," said Morgan before taking a long drink of his coffee.

"It's a long way from murdering and then mutilating the corpses," Reid muttered. He immediately regretted it though as he saw JJ put down the piece of toast she was eating with a sickened look on her face.

"It is," Hotch agreed, "It's the closest we have though."

At this point, Sheriff Thorn and Deputy Dave walked through the door, both of them looking pale and withdrawn, but cheerful enough, Reid supposed.

"Good morning, folks," said the sheriff, "I hope you all slept well."

"Yes, thank you," said Hotch, ever the professional.

"What are the plans for this morning then?" said Deputy Dave, looking curiously at the profilers.

"First, we'd like you to tell us what you know about Jeffrey Zusak," said Reid. The significant look that the sheriff and his deputy shared at this sentence didn't go unnoticed by a single person on the table.

"Jeffrey moved here three years ago. Said he wanted to make a fresh start," said Dave.

"He did. He hasn't made a very good start at it though. Always rubbing people up the wrong way is that man," continued Thorn, "Arguing over absolutely nothing and causing bar fights when he has too much to drink…"

"Okay then," said Hotch, his leader voice back in full swing, "JJ and Morgan, I want you to stay here and talk to the victim's husband. Reid and I will go and speak to Jeffrey Zusak, and Prentiss, I'd like for you to start work on victimology at the station."

Everyone nodded in assent, and then Hotch added, "JJ and Morgan, after your finished I want you to go to the station too. Do you remember the way?"

Morgan nodded quickly, "Yea, Hotch. We can find our way from here."

"Good."

They then went their separate ways; the sheriff and Emily going to the station, and the deputy accompanying Reid and Hotch to the house belonging to Jeffrey Zusak.

When they arrived, there was something distinctly different about this house compared to the other houses along the road. Reid immediately put it to the air of neglect about the place. The garden was slightly overgrown and the white paint on the door seemed to be chipped. This was in high contrast to all the other homes, which were all perfectly pristine. It was almost unnatural, Reid thought.

After Hotch knocked on the door, it took almost a full two minutes for the man to answer. He wore a tattered looking dressing gown, and peered at them tiredly, squinting against the outside light. He looked conspicuously hung over.

"Is there something I can help you with, Dave?" said Zusak in a gruff voice.

"These's Agents just want to ask you a few questions, Jeff," Dave replied solemnly.

A look of anger suddenly crossed the thin mans face, "Oh right, I get it. I don't go to your stupid church every Sunday so all of a sudden I'm a crazed psycho out killing all the locals?"

"That's not what I said," said the deputy, his anger also rising, "Agent's Hotchner and Reid just want to ask you a few standard questions."

For a moment, the man looked like he was about to refuse, but he simply shook his head and flung his door open wider, "Fine then," he said, "Come in."

"Thank you," said Hotch.

The followed him into the shabby home and into what was presumably the living room. They all sat down.

"Come on then, let's have it," said Zusak, "You want to know where I was the night before last I suppose? Well I can tell you now that I was home alone, and no, there is no one who can collaborate that."

Reid looked at Hotch, who was staring at Zusak in that way that he sometimes did when he was trying to get information out of a person. It seemed to be working as Zusak was becoming highly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"Were you on good terms with Catherine Jacobs?" asked Reid.

The man glared at him, "I wasn't even _on_ speaking terms with Catherine Jacobs. I think I swapped about three words with her in my entire life."

"So you have no motive for wanting her out of the way?" continued Reid, ignoring the glower that was being sent in his direction.

"Look, I may not agree with this whole fanatical religious thing these people have got going on, and sure, I have my disagreements with a few of them, but I did _not_ kill anybody."

"You have a criminal record, Mr. Zusak," said Hotch, finally speaking

"Yes…for stealing a packet of cigarettes when I was sixteen," snapped Zusak.

"And a charge of assault," said Hotch, raising an eyebrow.

Zusak looked torn between anger and general discomfort over this, "All right, I was drunk. Some guy was hitting on my girlfriend and I may have overreacted."

At this, the deputy shook his head disgustedly, and Zusak switched his scowl onto him.

"Don't you look down your nose at me you self-righteous jackass," he said, clearly incensed.

"Okay then, well thank you for your time Mr. Zusak," said Hotch standing up. He had obviously come to the conclusion that they were going to get no more useful information from this man.

"You aren't welcome," said Zusak nastily, seeing them to the door to make sure they actually left. After they had exited, he slammed the door behind him with a loud bang. Reid personally hoped it aggravated that man's headache.

"Nice guy," Reid commented as they walked down the empty driveway. Deputy Dave snorted ungracefully at this.

"He might be a jerk," said Hotch, "But he isn't our unsub."

--

**Author's Note(s):** If any of you are interested, I got my report in on time and it only took me thirteen straight hours and a completely sleepless night to write :p Score.

Anyway, hope you liked this chapter and I'll be back to post on Friday at some point.

Rubiks :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **Big thanks to Leigh52, didi2909, LadyPuzzler, SLITH and smokeylove and to everyone else who is reading.

Bit of a warning for this chapter…some general dark themes and unpleasantness near the end.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 4

"So your first suspect turned out to be a dead end? That must have been frustrating," said Doctor Miller, regarding the team closely.

"Actually, no," Reid suddenly blurted out sarcastically, "We love it when we can't find our killer. It makes the chase that much more exciting."

"Reid," said Hotch warningly.

"Well I'm sorry," said Reid, directly addressing Hotch, "But if he honestly feels the need to state the blindingly obvious at every turn, then I'm afraid my cooperation will be uncongenial at best."

Morgan actually laughed a little at this. He loved it when Reid became irate. In his cynical and sarcastic little way, he could actually be quite entertaining when the mood struck him. And if Reid was choosing to take his frustration out on this annoying, disrespectful psychiatrist, then he had Morgan's full support.

The barely concealed scowl that Hotch was aiming in Reid's direction was unmissable though, so Reid turned to the psychiatrist and apologised, though he didn't sound at all sorry.

"That's quite all right Doctor Reid. You were right of course, it was rather a redundant comment," said Miller kindly.

Reid merely mumbled something under his breath and looked at his feet again. Morgan felt for the kid, he really did.

"So, you interviewed your first suspect, and then what did you do?" said Miller, shifting his gaze to Hotch.

"Reid and I went to the station to compare ideas and decide what to do next. We spoke to some of the friends of the victims and other family members but everyone told us that they were well respected and loved members of the community," said Hotch.

"Garcia called and said that the only connection she could find between the victims other than them living in the same place was that they both went to church. But that wasn't much seem as how almost every single person in that place did," added Morgan.

"So your next move was to go and speak to the priest?" asked Miller.

Nodding, Hotch glanced over at Morgan, "Morgan and JJ had arrived at the station just before we left, so me and Morgan went to speak to the priest with the sheriff and Prentiss, Reid and JJ went to look at what was left of the other crime scene."

"I see," said Miller, "Tell me about the priest."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It turned out to be a very short drive to the church. Personally, Morgan didn't think it was worth the actual effort of getting in the car. They could have walked it in about twenty minutes.

Morgan wasn't a fan of the whole 'go talk to the priest' idea. He had issues with the church as it was and just didn't fancy the visit if he were honest. However, there was no way he was going to let Hotch down, so he agreed to go anyway and would behave as professionally as he possibly could. Even if God had abandoned him as a child, it didn't mean some random priest should be made to suffer.

When they entered the church, Father Mathew seemed to have been expecting them. He walked forward to greet them with a welcoming, yet slightly dark expression on his face.

"Let's go outside shall we?" said the greying priest, "I'd rather not taint my church with talk of such evil."

So they did.

"Father," said Hotch, getting straight down to business as they walked through the elaborate gardens behind the church and next to the cemetery, "I know this is hard, but is there anybody you can think of that could do such a thing?"

The priest shook his head immediately, "No, not a soul around here would do something like this. It must be someone else who doesn't live here."

Morgan looked over at Hotch, this guy was already getting on his nerves. He held his tongue though.

"Are you sure, Father? This person would blend in with the crowd, coming to church only to fit in with the crowds without actually believing," said Hotch, beginning to relay some of the profile to the older man.

"There's nobody around here like that," said the priest confidently, "Everyone in this village is one of God's children."

"Well somebody obviously disagrees," remarked Morgan, "You are aware that Satanic symbolism was found on and around the victims?"

The priest glanced down for a moment before looking Morgan straight in the eye, "I'm aware, thank you. And I stand by my statement; there is nobody who attends this church who would do such a thing."

"Now, Father," said sheriff Thorn good-naturedly, "These agents are only trying to do their job."

Before the priest could answer, a girl appeared from around the corner.

"Hi, Daddy," she said brightly, "Hi, Steven."

"Good afternoon, Abigail," said the priest, immediately becoming more cheerful at the sight of his daughter, "This is Agent Hotchner and Agent Morgan," he said, gesturing to the two agents.

"Hi there," said Abigail. She had long, blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes, Morgan had to admit that she was very good looking.

"This is my daughter, Abigail," said the priest proudly, "She's studying religion at University."

"It's nice to meet you," said Hotch politely.

"You too," replied the girl, she then turned to her father, "Dad, I'm just going for a walk around the village with Dean and Mary. Is that okay?"

"Of course, sweetheart," said the priest fondly, "Have fun."

"I will, Daddy. Good bye, Agent Hotchner and Morgan," she then said before leaving quickly.

After she had gone, Priest Mathew added, "Dean is her boyfriend from University and Mary is her friend. There is only a year between them so they grew up here together. They've been best friends since they could talk."

Morgan failed to see how that was at all relevant to anything, but he smiled politely anyway.

"Well, Father Mathew," began Hotch after a short pause, "If you think of anything, could you please call and let us know."

The priest unenthusiastically agreed to do so and then Morgan, Hotch and the sheriff made their way back to the station. Not being able to use a mobile phone in this place was really beginning to grate on Morgan's nerves.

--

The entire day seemed to pass by with neither anything eventful happening nor any new leads. Morgan was beginning to get seriously creeped out by the place. Nowhere could possibly be that perfect. There was something definitely going on.

As they ate dinner though he tried not to dwell on the peculiarities of the village and instead allowed himself to be drawn into a deep and meaningful discussion with Reid about which country makes the best cars. Out of the corner of his eye he saw JJ and Emily share an exasperated look, and if anything this spurred him to talk about it even more. He did love to wind up his team members.

"So Emily, what do you think?" Morgan asked with a lopsided grin.

"I don't know," said Emily, then she added, "and nor do I care."

"Oh come on," Morgan persisted, "Just pick a country."

"Just pick somewhere, Emily," said JJ, rolling her eyes, "Or he won't leave you alone."

Something about the way JJ spoke caught everyone's attention. Obviously it was supposed to be in good humour, but there was an undertone of seriousness under there that suggested that JJ was most certainly not enjoying the conversation.

"All right then. Germany clearly makes the best cars," said Emily with an exasperated look at Hotch, as though he could somehow rescue her from the car conversation.

"As if, that is just not true," said Morgan defensively.

"He's right," agreed Reid, "It's obviously Japan."

"Ugh. What do you think, Hotch?" said Morgan, hoping for some backup.

Hotch looked up from where he had been blatantly trying to block out what they were saying, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Prentiss on this one."

"Oh come on, Hotch. You're letting the side down, man," said a disappointed Morgan. Hotch merely offered him an amused expression and shook his head.

Morgan then turned to the only person to have no offered an opinion, "How about you, JJ? Don't you think that America makes the best cars?"

"I honestly couldn't care less, Morgan," replied JJ, not even looking up from her half eaten meal of spaghetti bolognaise.

"Please, just tell them that you agree with me and I'll leave you alone," said Morgan pleadingly.

Suddenly, JJ pushed her chair out from under the table and stood up. "I'm kind of tired, guys. So if you don't mind, I'm just going to go to bed and get some sleep," then with that, she walked off without the backwards glance.

Everyone left at the table swapped worried looks.

--

JJ felt truly awful. Talking to the families of victims had always been a large part of her job, but something about those little girls and their father had stirred something inside her and she just couldn't get their looks of utter devastation out of her head. The worst part though, was that she couldn't even tell the others how she was feeling. They were all coping perfectly with what was happening and JJ refused to be the odd one out. The weak one.

The sound of footsteps up the stairs startled JJ out of her thoughts, and she quickly lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. The distinct sound of heels indicated that it was Emily on her way up and JJ really didn't feel like talking about this right now. As she had already discovered, Emily just didn't seem to understand why JJ was bothered by what was happening.

Sure enough, the door to their room was slowly opened and JJ heard Emily step into the room and close the door with a quiet snap behind her. Emily then proceeded to get ready for bed while JJ tried to keep her breathing steady to give off the impression of being asleep. Eventually, JJ heard the creaking of springs that let her know that Emily had sat down in her bed, and even though JJ's eyes were closed, she could tell the older woman was watching her.

"You know, JJ," said Emily in a soft voice, "If you were going to pretend to be asleep you could have at least taken your shoes off."

JJ mentally cursed herself and let out a deep sigh. She then kicked off her shoes but refused to open her eyes, "Could you just leave me alone please? I'm not really in the mood to be profiled at the moment."

"Look, I know this is hard for you-"

"Do you really?" said JJ, rather coldly. She opened her eyes enough to see Emily hang her head dejectedly and immediately felt guilty, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I know this isn't your fault."

"Don't worry about it," said Emily quickly.

As far as JJ was concerned, this was the end of the conversation. She closed her eyes again and attempted to clear her mind of the gruesome images that kept invading her thoughts. Somehow though, she could still feel Emily watching her and it was highly unnerving.

"What is it, Emily?" said JJ finally.

Emily sighed audibly and then said, "If I tell you something, do you promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure," replied JJ, not really expecting whatever Emily had to say to be particularly interesting.

Steeling herself first, Emily began to talk, "We were in the Middle East. I don't even remember what actual country it was anymore since we lived in so many different ones. My parents were negotiating the release of some prisoners of war with the government, who were not feeling very co-operative at the time. They thought that they should be paid a lot of money in exchange for our people's release, and of course our government were having none of it.

"It was a Monday morning, and I'd convinced my nanny to walk me to the nearest shop so I could get some fresh air, but before we even got there we were ambushed by men in masks."

JJ's eyes shot open and she looked up in surprise. Emily for her part was staring determinedly at the wall with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees, rather like a child would sit in school.

"They killed my nanny without a second thought and kidnapped me. Some enterprising young man had decided that holding me hostage might make my parents a bit more lenient," Emily continued, her voice hard and unwavering.

"How old were you?" JJ inquired.

"Twelve," replied Emily morosely.

Then when Emily showed no signs of continuing her story, JJ said, "What happened?"

"They took me to what can only be described as a prison combined with a concentration camp," said Emily, rather reluctantly, "They threw me in a cell with a young woman, her name was Mariam. She was a teacher. I don't know how long I was in there with her, but it felt like an eternity. We kind of became friends. To pass the time I tried to teach her some English and in exchange she somehow kept me from having a nervous breakdown. Then after about two, maybe three days, some of the men that had taken me came back," Emily's voice wavered slightly, "They raped Mariam and then they killed her."

JJ felt her eyes widen, "In front of you?" she asked horrified.

Emily nodded slowly, she was still staring at the wall, but now her eyes shone with unshed tears, "I tried to stop them, but they just hit me and held me down so all I could do was watch it happen. Then afterwards they just left her body in there with me. They told me that if I didn't behave myself, they would do that to me too."

JJ was stunned, she just didn't quite know what to say and 'I'm sorry' just seemed so inadequate. So she simply watched in silence as Emily visibly tried to regain control of her emotions.

Then taking a deep breath, Emily carried on, "I was there for six days, but it felt more like a month. In that time they took me around to visit all the people they had captured…" she faltered momentarily, "…made me watch them being tortured and sometimes murdered depending on how the boss was feeling at the time."

A couple of rogue tears escaped and Emily wiped them away briskly as though they annoyed her. Her eyes never left the same spot on the wall as she stared at images that only she could see. JJ felt a lump rise in her throat and almost wished she hadn't prompted Emily to finish this story.

"Anyway, I was finally rescued after six days and that basically concluded negotiations with that country. Once the hospital said I was well enough to travel, we came back to America for a year. Then my father left and we moved to France for a while. That's another story for another day though," said Emily, attempting and failing to offer JJ a weak smile. It actually came out looking more like a grimace.

"Emily…I don't…"

"I'm telling you this, JJ, in answer to the question you asked me yesterday. After you've learnt to deal with something like that, and by deal, I mean pretend it never happened, keeping detached from crime scenes isn't as hard as you'd think," Emily then took a deep breath, "But don't think that all this doesn't bother me, because it does. I'm not completely heartless like you might all think. I was just brought up believing that a stiff upper lip was an attribute that a person should aspire to and well…old habits die hard I guess."

Emily finally diverted her eyes to look at JJ, and even though she was wearing her diplomat look again, JJ could just about see the well hidden vulnerability and insecurity that shone in her eyes. It was almost as though she thoroughly expected to be rejected somehow and was mentally preparing herself against the inevitable judgement.

So JJ did the only thing she could think of. She moved to sit next to Emily and pulled her into a tight hug. At first Emily stiffened slightly, but then she let out a small sigh of relief and hugged JJ back.

"I'm sorry, Emily," said JJ tiredly, "I never meant to imply that I think you are heartless."

"I know, don't worry about it. I'm just being overly sensitive," Emily replied.

"No you aren't…I-"

"Jayj, it doesn't matter. I'm fine. Honestly."

Reluctantly, JJ nodded, "All right. Maybe we should try and get some sleep then. It's going to be another long day tomorrow."

"Yep," agreed Emily.

JJ got up and got into her own bed.

"Hey, Emily?" she said before turning the light off.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

--

**Author's Note(s):** So to be fair I have no idea what the hell an ambassador does so if that could never ever happen then I'm afraid you'll just have to deal :)

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed,  
Rubiks


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **Thank you to tearbos, Leigh59, SLITH, smokeylove, pinveggie and IheartTV :-)

To anyone that is interested, the 'strange and boring' car talk was an actual conversation that someone tried to drag me into the day I wrote chapter 4, I was like 'You cannot _seriously_ expect me to have an opinion on this?' and they got really annoyed with me because of it :p So I decided to inject it into the chapter for my own amusement.

Anyway, sorry this has taken so long! It's actually been written for about two weeks, but I just don't like it and have been trying to fix it for all this time. I have given up though. So, I hope you enjoy :-)

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 5

"Wow. A full days work and then nothing to show for it," said Doctor Miller with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you talking about our day then…or our day today?" inquired Reid curiously.

Emily felt herself smile tiredly. She was glad that Reid was becoming so uppity, it saved her the trouble of doing so herself because she could just live vicariously through him. Although thinking on it, Emily wasn't really a fan of Reid when he was in one of his moods, she remembered how he had behaved towards her when she had first joined the BAU. Fair enough, he had been struggling with a drug problem, but it didn't make it any less frustrating at the time.

She shifted a little to try to get into a more comfortable position and grimaced as a sharp shooting pain travelled up her leg.

"I was actually talking about your day then, Doctor Reid," replied Miller. Emily wished he didn't sound quite so amused by everything the team said.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, Reid pulled a face and turned his head to stare at the wall.

"So, moving on," said Miller brightly, "I trust you all had a good nights sleep after that little episode. What was your first break in the case?"

"We got a call at six o clock in the morning from the sheriff. There had been another murder," said Hotch. His voice sounded almost robotic, like he was reading something off a piece of paper but not really taking the information in.

"Oh dear," said Doctor Miller, rather sympathetically, "Was it somebody you knew of?"

"It was Jeffrey Zusak, the man we spoke to the day before," said Hotch softly.

Miller nodded, "Well you did say he wasn't a very nice man."

"That doesn't mean he deserved to die," said Emily, rather surprised that he would say such a thing.

The man tried and failed to suppress a smirk at this, "I mean that because he wasn't very pleasant, he could have just annoyed your serial killer and that's how he ended up the way he did. Not that he deserved to die."

The room fell silent once more. Emily wondered if the psychiatrist was actually trying to provoke them or whether it was just his own charming personality shining through the professionalism. She imagined that it was probably a combination of the two.

"So," said Miller finally, "You had your third body. What atrocities had befallen the young man?"

When nobody answered, Miller swivelled his gaze to Hotch, who reluctantly began to explain the details, "It was closer to the first body than the second in that the pentagram was carved in the chest."

"I see. What else?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Hotch observed the crime scene with his usual clinical distance. There were more signs of a struggle in this house than in the last one, and yet there were still no signs of forced entry suggesting that Zusak let his killer in. Like before, the amount of blood that had come from the carved in pentagram told Hotch that it had been done before the man was killed.

"Look at the bruising on the wrists," said Morgan, pointing to where the coroner was examining the hands.

Doctor Brennan, who the sheriff had introduced them to upon arrival, looked up from the corpse. His pale complexion told Hotch that the man wasn't used to dealing with dead bodies, despite the fact that he was the coroner and doctor.

"He was held down by somebody," said Doctor Brennan, "Someone strong."

"While somebody else cut into his chest…" said Emily musingly.

"…Meaning that there is two unsubs," finished Morgan.

Well that explained the conflicts between the first and second crime scenes, thought Hotch. Two different people with different ideas. Instinctively, Hotch began to mentally list the common features of murdering duos. One dominant whilst the other submissive. Dominant giving the impression of protecting submissive and so on and so forth.

"It still doesn't make sense," said Emily after a moment.

"How so?" said Hotch, looking up from the mutilated corpse.

"The dominant just let the submissive change the method of killing and how they send their 'message'?" she said sceptically.

"Plus two unsub's both sharing the same delusions of Satan?" Morgan said in agreement.

Hotch felt himself nodding in agreement, "So this is no ordinary partnership."

At this point, the coroner stood up and looked to Hotch with an utterly horrified expression on his face, "You mean there is more than one psycho out there?"

Rather than answer, Hotch simply shook Doctor Brennan's hand and said, "Thank you for your help, if you find anything else you know where you can reach us."

--

Reid and JJ stood outside the crime scene. Together they were interviewing the woman who had found the body, who happened to be his cleaner.

"Who could do such a thing?" the woman sobbed, pulling Reid into a hug.

"Um…We don't know Mrs. Carmichael…" said Reid, nervously patting the woman on the shoulder and trying to pull away from her.

"Mrs Carmichael," said JJ soothingly, trying to not show her amusement at Reid's predicament, "Is there anyone you can think of that might want to hurt Mr Zusak?"

Apparently, this was not the right thing to say if JJ's goal had been to rescue Reid as the woman wrapped her arms around his neck even tighter and her crying became infinitely louder.

"Nobody really liked him," she said, or at least JJ thought that's what she said. It was hard to tell seem as how her words were muffled by Reid's shoulder, "But I can't think of anyone that would do that to him."

Over the top of the woman's head, Reid's eyes looked pleadingly at JJ. It honestly would have been comical had the situation been different.

"Have you seen anything strange lately? Something out of the ordinary with Mr Zusak or perhaps just in the area?" asked JJ.

Sniffing loudly, the woman replied, "No there's nothing I can think of."

Reid continued to pat the woman awkwardly on the back and said, "Thank you, Mrs Carmichael. If you think of anything else you can contact us at the station."

Finally, the woman let go of Reid and nodded through her tears. She had seen her husband round the corner and ran to him, burying her face in his shoulder much like she had done with Reid.

"Thank God," Reid muttered just loudly enough for JJ to hear him.

"Oh come on, Spence," said JJ with a wink, "Just think, that's probably the most action you're going to get on this whole case."

It was worth the tastelessness of that joke just to watch the good Doctor Reid's cheeks flush a brilliant red and to see him stutter out a nervous fake laugh. The poor guy. JJ almost felt sorry for him, she did sometimes wonder why he didn't get more dates, he was pretty cute, bless him. Her train of thought broke at the approach of Hotch, Morgan and Emily.

"What do we have?" asked JJ, as the other three drew level with them.

"We have two unsubs," said Emily darkly.

"Two?" said Reid, his previous embarrassment forgotten.

"There were restraint marks on the victim's wrists, we think that one unsub held him down while the other engraved the pentagram," said Hotch quietly, he obviously didn't want on of the many people that had come out to see what the fuss was about to hear him.

As if this couldn't get any worse, thought JJ. Two unsubs? One was quite enough. She naturally kept these feelings to herself though as the rest of the team had already started their battle plan.

"You want to talk to _everyone_?" asked Reid, completely aghast.

"No, not every single person," said Hotch impatiently, "Just the people that live on the streets where the first two victims were killed. Then by the time we're done the crowd here will have gone and we can interview here."

"Oh," said Reid with a gulp.

"Reid, I want to and JJ to start at the scene of the first murder, Prentiss, you and Sheriff Thorn go with them and start from the other end. Morgan and I will go to the site of the second murder," Hotch ordered.

They then made arrangements to meet back up at the station when they were finished and went their separate ways.

--

They were only four houses down the road and Hotch was about ready for killing someone. He and Morgan had soon realised that each and every one of the locals was absolutely crazy. So far the winner of King Crazy of Crazy Town was the old woman they had just left, who had forced cups of tea into their hands and shown them pictures of her dead cats for the better part of an hour. They had only been rescued by the woman's granddaughter who had entered the room at one point to tell the old woman that her favourite soap was on. Usually Hotch was excellent at keeping his feelings at bay, but the sheer magnitude of queerness in the place was both baffling and a tad worrying.

It was with a weary heart that Morgan and Hotch walked up the next driveway and knocked on the door. It was opened by a woman who looked to be in her early fifties, Hotch almost groaned as he recognised the signs of an old lush, desperately trying to cling to the remnants of her youth by wearing too much makeup and horrendous clothes that she deemed to be in style nowadays.

As the woman took in the sight of the two agents at her door, a wicked grin spread across her features and she batted her eyelashes in what Hotch imagined she though was a seductive way.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said in a sultry voice, "I'm Saffron. Saffron Wilder."

Hotch cleared his throat rather uncomfortably as he tried to ignore the sly smirk on Morgan's face, "Hello, Mrs Wilder-"

"Oh no," she interrupted, "It's _Ms_ Wilder."

"Ms Wilder," Hotch corrected himself, "I'm Special Agent Hotchner and this is Special Agent Morgan, we're here to ask you a few questions about the recent murders."

This seemed to knock the wind out of the woman's sails but she hitched her smile back up immediately, "Well sure thing there, honey," Hotch cringed, "Why don't you two come in. I just boiled the kettle."

She stepped aside to allow them into the house, but not giving them enough room to get in without having to brush past her.

They were led into the living room and she turned to them and said, "I'll just go and fetch us some drinks."

"That's quite all right," said Morgan quickly, "We don't want a drink."

"Oh no my good sir," said Saffron with a wink, "I insist."

As she left the room, Hotch and Morgan exchanged rather fearful glances before looking around to examine the room.

"Dear God…" said Hotch quietly, "I feel like I just stepped into a Jackson Pollack painting."

Morgan snorted. It was true though. This woman had obviously no colour co-ordination whatsoever. The room was a mishmash of colours all centred around the brown carpet and walls. It reminded Hotch of when a child would mix up all the colours of their paint box and it would turn an ugly brown.

Within about five minutes, Saffron Wilder and her bouncing blonde curls came back into the room carrying a tray of tea. In the short time she had been gone, the woman had actually applied even more makeup.

"Now then, boys," she said, sitting down opposite them, "Where were we?"

--

On the other side of town, Reid and JJ were having about as much luck as Hotch and Morgan were. They were making their way through their street a lot faster than the other two though, plus they also had Emily talking to people over the road, so they were at a distinct advantage. But nevertheless, all this social activity was beginning to take its toll on the good Doctor. He was weary of all the peculiar strangers in this odd little village. Even the positive façade JJ bore when dealing with potential witnesses seemed to be faltering.

It was with great relief that the two agents walked up the quaint little pathway of the last house on the street. Then much to Reid and JJ's even greater relief, nobody answered the door. It was a little strange that nobody was in because to be fair, there was little to do in this tiny village and Reid wasn't sure what the occupant of the house could be out doing. He decided it wise not to complain though and walked with JJ over to Emily and Sheriff Thorn who had also just finished their side of the road.

"Anything?" asked Emily optimistically.

"Not yet," replied Reid rather forlornly.

"Me neither," said Emily with a small sigh.

In front of Sheriff Thorn, they were all rather reluctant to show how dismal things looked, so as they walked together to the part of town where Morgan and Hotch would be, the three tried to stay as optimistic as humanly possible. It was actually rather exhausting.

--

Yet another whole day had passed, and other than learning of the impossibly high number of eccentrics in the village, little had been made clear to the profilers of the kind of person they were searching for. Nobody fit the accepted profile and not a single person had seen hide or hair of their killer. Yet again they had no leads, mounting victims and little to no contact with the outside world. Things were not looking good.

Of course, none of these words were spoken as once again the team sat downstairs in their little bed & breakfast eating a nice home cooked meal. Even Morgan seemed too despondent to try and lighten the mood.

As far as Emily was concerned though, it was Hotch who was displaying the most bizarre behaviour. He was pushing his food around his plate, rather like a small child would, and had adopted a sickly grey pallor. Frankly, he looked rather ill. However, it was an unspoken law amongst the BAU that under no circumstances were they to profile each other, so Emily kept these observations to herself and continued to eat her undoubtedly fattening meal with little enthusiasm. She was finding it increasingly difficult to get the sight of all the blood and gore from today's victim out of her mind. She imagined Hotch was having the same problem.

Eventually, Hotch pushed himself and his chair backwards and stood up, "I'm going to bed, and I suggest you all do the same. It's going to be another long day tomorrow."

Hotch seemed to sway slightly, much to Emily's confusion. Perhaps he was tired, she thought. He then offered them all a hurried good night before turning and leaving them for his bedroom.

It didn't take long for everybody else to follow his example. By ten o clock the entire team were in bed, settled in for yet another sleepless night, and each completely unaware that they were not the only one lying awake and staring at their ceiling.

--

**Author's Note(s):** I know not much happened in this chapter, but things are going to start to pick up very soon.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate it muchly :-)


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **A massive, giant, huge thank you to didi2909, smokeylove, grahamag, Leigh59 (Why thank you, I finished my classes for the summer a few weeks ago but I appreciate the thought!), ramona, RavennaNightwind (Hehe I'm terribly sorry. See as a Brit I was programmed as a child to believe that tea is the root to solving the meaning of life and such. I'll change it when I get the time), SLITH, Mrs.Violet Stokes, Sue1313 and BlackRaven (Hehe that's fair enough. You'll be glad to know then that I'm not going to be mentioning that again then for the rest of the story :p). I actually love you all. Also thanks to everyone who is reading.

Haha I'm glad that Dr Miller is making an impression. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 6

An awkward silence filled the room. This was the part of the story where things started to get a little dicey, and JJ was reluctant to continue this little chitchat with some random shrink. JJ wasn't a profiler, but she could tell that this was a view that the rest of her team shared. There was a distinct lack of eye contact taking place, something which obviously did not go unnoticed by Miller, who had the beginnings of a wicked grin on his face. What he found so amusing was quite beyond JJ, though knowing profilers as well as she did it was probably a tactic to purposely used to provoke a more emotional reaction and gain more information than would normally be given.

Still, they wouldn't be allowed back to work until they'd been approved by one of the bureau's psychologists, in this case Miller. So JJ supposed they'd have to tell him everything, but that didn't mean they'd have to make it easy for him.

"So what happened next?" asked Miller, finally having become tired of waiting for one of the team to talk, "Did you get your first lead?"

"Not exactly," said Hotch warily.

"Oh?" said Miller, quirking an eyebrow, "How did you feel at this point, Agent Hotchner, after doing all that work and still being completely flummoxed?"

If it was anybody else, all Miller would have received was a snappy retort, but Hotch would remain professional to the last, "I'd felt better."

Although he was clearly less than impressed, JJ admired his ability to control his temper.

"How about the rest of you?" asked Miller, surveying the team over his spectacles.

"Well obviously a case with no leads can be quite frustrating," Reid pointed out, sounded marginally less irritated than he had done earlier, but also significantly more tired.

Miller nodded sympathetically, "I see. Now that the case is over, looking back on those first few days, were there any clues that you missed? Something that could have led to the profile earlier and therefore prevented all those mishaps?"

JJ felt her stomach turn, this was something she'd asked herself over and over again. Was there something more they could have done? Something to stop those murders sooner? There must have been something else that they should have seen. Glancing up, the same internal conflict seemed to be playing over Emily and Reid's faces too. Hotch and Morgan, however, were looking determinedly at the psychiatrist.

"No," said Morgan forcefully, "There was nothing any of us could have done. There wasn't enough evidence. There was no way we could have known who the unsub's were."

"I see," said Miller, with another characteristic head bob, "And is this how you all feel?"

"Absolutely," said Hotch, leaving the other three no time to answer.

Lip curling in sardonic amusement, Miller leaned back in his chair and turned his head slightly to look at JJ, "And now, Agent Jareau, after all that happened, are you still glad that you chose this particular case?"

JJ felt a painful jab in her heart and she turned to look at Emily with her walking stick, Reid with his haunted, deep sunken eyes, Hotch with his unnatural and sudden weight loss and pallid complexion, and Morgan without his usual cheerful nature, a shell of his former self.

"Agent Jareau?"

"I am," said JJ finally, "Somebody had to help those people. I have no regrets."

Seeming satisfied by this answer, Miller bowed his head in her direction, which for the briefest of moments looked like a gesture of respect. JJ was convinced she had imagined it though as the old psychiatrist switched his gaze over to Reid.

"Now, Doctor Reid, why don't you continue our little story?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"I think not," said JJ stubbornly, "You do it!"

"I vote Reid," Emily replied.

Reid spluttered in indignation, "No way! Why should I?"

"He likes you the best," JJ pointed out.

"He does not!" exclaimed Reid, realising quickly that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Of course he does," said Emily, as though the matter had been decided, "He's far less likely to bite your head off than he is ours."

"Oh well that's comforting," said Reid sarcastically, "Why don't you make Morgan do it!"

"Why don't you make Morgan do _what_ exactly?" said a deep voice behind Reid. He almost jumped a metre in the air in fright.

Morgan laughed, "A little jumpy today are we, youngster?"

Feeling heat rush to his cheeks, Reid let his head drop forward and mumbled incoherently under his breath. Now that Morgan was here, he didn't stand a chance of getting out of this.

"What's going on?" asked Morgan, looking over to where JJ and Emily stood next to each other with identical amused grins.

"Hotch isn't here yet," Emily explained, "And we called his cell but he isn't answering."

"So they are trying to make me go and knock on his door!" Reid piped in.

Morgan nodded and looked thoughtful. It was incredibly bizarre for Hotch not to be there yet. He was often the first person to rise and usually was waiting for them all with a pot of coffee to prepare them for the rest of the day. It was positively unheard of for him to have _overslept_. But then again, he had looked awfully tired the night before, in Reid's humble opinion. They weren't supposed to profile each other of course, but one didn't need special behavioural training to notice the large black bags under their boss's eyes.

"Well off you pop then," said Morgan to Reid.

Hanging his head, Reid accepted his fate and walked down the small upstairs landing with an increasing sense of impending doom. It was amazing how such a small little door could look so threatening.

_KNOCK KNOCK._

Reid waited for a minute. There was no answer.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked again, but louder this time.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK._

Silence.

Then, Reid could here someone moving inside the room and a deep groan.

"Hotch?" said Reid, his face close to the door.

"Yea?" said Hotch, his voice thick with sleep, "What is it Reid?"

"Um…" Reid fumbled, "It's after eight o clock. We should um… Be going now."

Silence again. Then, "I'll be out in ten minutes."

Reid was puzzled. This was most out of character. As always though, Reid actively tried to prevent himself from profiling his boss and went to join the rest of his team at the foot of the stairs. Emily and JJ were chatting quietly about something that Reid couldn't quite hear and honestly wouldn't care to anyway. Morgan was leaning heavily against the wall, hands in pockets and eyes closed. For a moment Reid stood next to him, sending him sly glances and twiddling his thumbs. Then he decided he could take it no longer.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a low tone, not wanting Emily and JJ to hear.

Opening his eyes, Morgan pulled a face at Reid, "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," said Reid before he could stop himself, because Morgan, like Hotch, looked like he'd seen better days.

Morgan eyed him wearily, "I feel a little sick is all. I think my stomach is protesting against all that tea I drank yesterday."

Not entirely convinced, Reid nodded slowly and then looked at the floor. Something about this case just didn't sit right with him. He wanted to go home.

It took Hotch less than ten minutes to join them downstairs, though he looked noticeably more dishevelled than he usually did and the heavy bags under his eyes looked significantly larger than they had done the night before. Wisely, Reid thought, nobody commented on this. The team then left the vicinity without breakfast, much to Reid's sorrow, for another hard days work.

--

They arrived at the miniscule sheriff's office just as Thorn was putting the phone down with a grave look on his face. Morgan wasn't sure if the twinge in his stomach at that point was due to the odd little illness he seemed to have developed, or because he recognised that look as one that did not bode well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw JJ and Emily share a dark look indicating they had drawn the same quick conclusion.

"There's been another murder," said Thorn in a shaky voice. _Damn_.

"There's been another murder," Reid repeated faintly whilst paling significantly.

Sheriff Thorn nodded. He bore a distant look on his face that was mingled with acute horror. Morgan recognised the look, it said_ how could this have happened in my own village_? There was no doubt in Morgan's mind that the man was blaming himself for this whole sorry affair. Small town sheriffs tended to do that. They seemed to think that because they grew up there that they should have been able to predict what was going to happen and could have somehow prevented it.

"Old Mabel Blackwell," the Sheriff continued dimly, "Her granddaughter just found her. Dave is already on the scene."

"Two bachelors, a housewife and an old woman," said Emily thoughtfully, "That's very bizarre victimology."

"This is a very bizarre case," added Morgan with a small shake of his head.

As always, all eyes turned to Hotch, who was looking even sicker than Morgan felt, which was quite a feat considering the increasing pain in his stomach.

"Okay," began Hotch, his voice wavered ever so slightly, "Reid and JJ, I want you to stay here and go over victimology, call Garcia and see if you can find anything you might have missed. We'll go to the crime scene."

--

As a rule, Emily didn't consider herself much of a worrier. As far as she was aware, nor was her mother. It took rather a lot to make the Prentiss household nervous. But as Emily watched her boss stagger behind them with an increasing look of helpless frustration on his face, she couldn't help but feel just a little worried. Morgan wasn't looking too great either. It did not bode well for the rest of the day. Naturally though, she kept these thoughts and feelings to herself because she knew it would only further annoy both her colleagues if she were to draw attention to them. Still, she couldn't help but notice how Hotch's hands were shaking almost imperceptibly and how he pushed them deep into his pockets to stop them.

On their walk, Morgan had caught her up to speed on what they knew of Mrs Mabel Blackwell. She was a widow who lived with her many cats and occasionally her granddaughter. She had been very cheerful when Morgan and Hotch has spoken to her yesterday, nothing had led them to believe that she could be in any kind of danger and the woman was not nervous or worried about anything. She was old, feeble and inoffensive, and for the life of them nobody could think what the possible motive behind her murder could be.

The sun was shining merrily down on them, but overhead Emily could see dark storm clouds rolling across the sky towards them. When she had been in France with her Grandfather, he had taught her to 'read the skies', as he had called it, which meant she could sometimes (not always accurately) predict what the weather was going to be like. Of course, she didn't need to be a meteorologist to tell that those black clouds spelt trouble. Rain would probably be more fitting anyway, Emily thought, the sun combined with all the horrendous murders that were taking place just didn't seem to gel together. She felt that the weather should reflect the horrors of the day. Not that she wanted rain of course, it would make all this walking back and forth so much less enjoyable.

Thankfully, it took almost no time at all to arrive outside the old woman's cosy little home. Emily was partly glad due to the increasing sense of urgency within her, but also because Hotch seemed to become rather short of breath and it was beginning to worry her a great deal.

Sheriff Thorn's eyes darkened considerably at the sight of his deputy shooing away passing villagers who had come to see what was going on.

"All right!" he yelled, startling a young couple and their son who were standing not three feet away, "Everyone, go back to your homes! This is not a side show spectacle!"

"Sheriff," said Morgan warningly, but Thorn was beyond reason now.

"For heavens sake! Have you people no shame!? I demand you give Mrs Blackwell the respect she deserves and not treat this as some sort of show stopping production number!"

The crowd quickly dispersed, barring one man and his two children. One of whom Emily recognised as being Molly, the daughter of Catherine Jacobs who had visited herself and JJ a couple of days earlier.

"What the _hell_ is going on, Steven?" said Mr Jacobs, not even attempting to keep his anger in check. He looked a complete mess, his hair stuck up at odd angles and his clothes were so creased that they looked as though he had slept in them.

"I don't know, Dan," replied Thorn, all previous anger drained from him.

"Why is this still happening?" Jacobs demanded, he then looked to Hotch, "I thought you people were brought here to stop this? Why the hell aren't you doing your jobs properly?"

"We are doing out best, Mr Jacobs," said Hotch in a somewhat less soothing voice than he normally would due to the shaking, "Right now, you need to go back home and look after your little girls."

Jacobs shot them all a look of deepest loathing and tightened his grip on his children's hands, "You need to stop this right now, Thorn, or I'm going to start taking matters into my own hands."

Then with that, he turned away from them and stalked off, dragging the terrified children in his wake.

"He's normally such a nice guy," said Thorn in a pained voice, "It's just Catherine's death…"

"We understand," said Morgan kindly.

Sheriff Thorn nodded but didn't look entirely convinced. Then a look of steely determination crossed his face, "I'm going to hold a town meeting tonight and tell people what we know."

"Good idea," said Emily encouragingly, "I'll help you with that."

"Thank you," said Thorn gratefully, "Now, shall we?"

He then led the way into the house. From the kitchen Emily could hear the distinct sound of sobbing, from a young girl by the sound of it. She could also here Deputy Dave attempting to calm her. But they were led into the living room where the body of Mabel Blackwell lay on the floor. Emily suppressed the urge to be sick.

"Woah," said Morgan.

There was so much blood. Everywhere.

Emily tried to look away, but morbid fascination kept her eyes rooted on the floor.

It was because of this that nobody saw Hotch sway alarmingly and have to throw out a hand against the wall to stop himself from toppling over. His breathing was becoming increasingly more difficult and odd white spots where flashing before his eyes. It was at this point that Emily suddenly noticed.

"Hotch?" she said loudly, "Are you okay?"

Groaning in response, Hotch placed his hand over his stomach and doubled up in pain.

"Hotch? Oh my God," said Emily, moving quickly towards him to support him by the shoulders.

"What's going on?" said Morgan, finally dragging his eyes away from the mutilated corpse on the floor, "God…Hotch, man? You okay?"

"No…not okay!" Hotch managed through gritted teeth as he sank to his knees, pulling Emily who was unable to support his weight down with him.

"Come on, Hotch," said Emily desperately as the man's eyes began to flutter shut, "Stay with me!"

"Trying," Hotch mumbled, sinking further down the wall until he was sat down with both arms wrapped around his stomach.

"Call an ambulance," Emily heard Morgan shout at Thorn.

"We don't have any ambulances," said Thorn stupidly.

"Then call the doctor!"

"Come on, Hotch," Emily was saying, frantically shaking his shoulders as Hotch drifted off into fitful unconsciousness, unable to fight the pull of nothingness any longer.

--

**Author's Note(s):** Uh-oh. What's up with Hotch? :-/

Sorry about any mistakes I might have missed, since I've not been writing much lately my proof reading skills seem to have diminished a bit! So if anyone spots something that needs changing then I'd be much obliged if you could please let me know.

Thank you for reading :-),  
Rubiks


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **Big thanks to Sue1313, SLITH, didi2909, ramona, RavennaNightwind, tearbos, drea78 and Leigh59! You're all wonderful. Also thanks to people still reading.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 7

For the first time since they had arrived, the twinkle of sardonic amusement in Miller's eyes wasn't quite as bright as it had been since they had arrived. Yet somehow it didn't make Emily feel any better. It hitched straight back up again though as though it had never left and Miller watched them all with curious politeness.

"Well then," he said, "That sounds like an interesting development."

Emily practically had to bite her tongue to stop herself from aiming a sarcastic comment in Miller's direction. Hotch's face noticeably darkened and he glared at Miller, as did the rest of the team. He never said as much, but Emily knew that Hotch still felt intensely guilty over what had happened. This was despite the fact that there was nothing he could have possibly done to prevent it. When they were in the hospital, she had heard Morgan trying to convince him that there was nothing that could have been done, but Hotch had adamantly refused to believe him. He said it was all his fault. Fair enough, Hotch was fairly dosed up on drugs at the time and wasn't entirely sure of what he was saying, but that was frankly neither here nor there.

"All right, _interesting_ perhaps might not be the best choice of word," Miller conceded after sensing the animosity directed at him.

"Perhaps not," JJ agreed coldly.

Obviously suppressing a grin, Miller nodded and then glanced at the clock, "Oh my word!" he said, "Look at the time. It's almost one o clock! Time certainly flies when you're having a good time, don't you think?"

Nobody responded and Miller smiled kindly at them.

"I'll be back in ten minutes," he said, standing up with mild difficulty. "Ooh, I'm not as young as I used to be I'm afraid."

With that, he hobbled from the room leaving the most awkward silence of Emily's life in his wake. For what felt like an hour, but in reality was about three short minutes, no one spoke. In fact, nobody even looked at each other. They all seemed to be looking at different points around the room as though it was the most interesting thing they had ever seen in their life.

It was Reid who broke the silence first, "How much longer do we have to stay here for?"

Everyone looked at him and his cheeks turned the slightest bit red, but he met Hotch's eyes unwaveringly.

"Until he says we can go," said Hotch sternly, "We need his approval before we can go back to work."

"Who says I even _want_ to go back to work," Reid mumbled quietly.

Emily felt her eyes widen, "Don't you?" she said before she could stop herself.

Reid turned to look at her, his eyes large and childlike, "I don't know," he admitted softly.

"But, Reid, what would you…I mean…Why, man?" asked Morgan.

Shrugging, Reid looked down at his knees, "You know why."

Emily felt like she'd been sucker punched. Reid _had_ to come back to work. The team just wouldn't function properly without him.

At this point, Miller came back into the room carrying a large plate of sandwiches of all varieties in one hand and a smaller plate of cakes in the other. He looked annoyingly pleased with himself.

"Have I missed anything?" he asked cheerily, moving around the room to offer everyone sandwiches.

"No," said Hotch, reluctantly selecting a ham sandwich from the psychiatrist's plate of food.

"Jolly good," said Miller, sitting down again, "Why don't we carry on then."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"I think he's been poisoned," said Doctor Brennan uncertainly.

"You _think_?" said Emily scathingly, pacing up and down the hall like a caged animal.

"Well," continued Brennan, looking rather frightened, "I won't know until I've run some proper tests…but poison is my best guess."

"_Your best guess_," Emily repeated, throwing her arms up in exasperation, "Well what are you going to do? What can you give him? Can you stop it?"

Brennan took a reflexive step backwards and lifted his hands up as though to protect himself from Emily's wrath, "I gave him some antibiotics but he just threw them back up again…"

"Well give him some more!" Emily exclaimed, it seemed like a fairly obvious solution to her.

"There's no point," said Brennan softly, "At the moment I don't think he's in any immediate danger, but he is going to need proper treatment very soon. I'll call the nearest hospital and see what they recommend."

Thinking about this, Emily realised that this was the best she was going to get out of him at the moment. So after forcing as much information out of the Doctor as she possibly could about Hotch's symptoms and what she could do to help, she allowed him to scuttle away with his tail between his legs to his tiny lab, which luckily was only about five minutes walking distance away.

They were back at the hotel, Brennan had told Emily that it was the best place for Hotch to be right now because his own little doctors surgery was so cold and dusty with disuse. He had told her that someone needed to stay with Hotch at all times though and call him immediately should her boss get worse. Emily had volunteered to sit with Hotch first while Morgan, Thorn and his Deputy stayed at the crime scene. JJ and Reid were going to meet Morgan there and they would try to work on vicitimology at the same time. A lot of multi-tasking was taking place.

What the others didn't know yet, was that Hotch had possibly been poisoned. She didn't have a number to contact them so she couldn't even call to let them know. It was very worrying, she hoped they were all okay and would be very careful.

With a deep and nervous sigh, Emily walked over to Hotch's room and knocked quietly. Part of her instructions were to keep him awake by any means necessary and she wasn't doing a very good job of it stood outside the door.

"You can come in, Prentiss," said Hotch in a troublingly weak voice.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was almost identical to hers and JJ's, the only difference being that there was a large double bed in this room. A large double bed with their pale and sickly boss in it.

"Hey, Hotch," said Emily softly, moving to sit on the chair beside his bed, "How are you feeling?"

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her before saying, "I've had better days."

"I'll bet," mused Emily.

An awkward silence proceeded this. Emily searched the deepest recess of her mind to try and think of something to say, which was when she realised that she actually didn't know much about Hotch at all. If it had been Morgan, they could have talked about Kurt Vonnegut. If it had been Reid, they could have talked about books and the general nerdiness they secretly shared. If it had been JJ, they could have talked about girly things. But with Hotch, she had no idea what they could talk about other than work. The only thing unrelated to work that she really knew about him was that he had a young son called Jack, and a failing marriage. Somehow she didn't think talking about Haley would be a good way of keeping the mans heart rate down.

"Have you told Morgan about the poison?" asked Hotch eventually, looking rather self conscious in the blue striped pyjamas he had been told to wear. He was obviously not in as dignified a position as he would have liked.

"Not yet," said Emily shaking her head, "I don't have a number for the house."

Hotch grimaced and Emily wasn't sure whether it was because of that piece of news or because he was in pain. She hoped it was the first.

"Do you have any idea how this could have happened?" she asked curiously.

Letting out a deep sigh, Hotch shook his head, "We've all eaten the same things, so it can't have been the food or we'd all be sick. It could have been in the drinks we had yesterday, but Morgan had them too and he's fine. We went into about twenty different homes. It could have been anybody."

"Assuming it was the unsub," Emily began thoughtfully, "it's certainly a change in MO. Maybe they think we're getting close."

"That would mean we'd have spoken to at least one of them," Hotch agreed, "Or because this village is so small, they must know we're here and could just want to stop us before we stop them."

"A disturbing idea," said Emily, suppressing a thrill of fear.

Hotch drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Strands of dark hair clung to his clammy forehead and his whole body shook slightly.

"Hotch?" said Emily nervously.

"Mmm?" he mumbled without opening his eyes.

"You need to stay awake," she replied, softly but firmly, "The doctor said-"

"I heard what you and the doctor said," interrupted Hotch with the ghost of a smile on his face, "You weren't exactly quiet about it."

Emily flinched, "Sorry, I think I got a little carried away."

"That's all right, Prentiss," said Hotch, still with his eyes closed, "It's nice to know you care."

She couldn't help but smile at this and wonder if there were any other circumstances in which he would have said those words. She seriously doubted it. He was far too guarded usually.

"Well I'm glad you said that," said Emily, "Because I'm afraid there's going to be some hardcore tough love going on for the next few hours. I'm not going to let you fall asleep, despite how much you might want to."

The fleeting smile was back and finally Hotch opened his eyes, "I never for a moment thought otherwise."

"Well good, because we have a few hours to kill. What would you like to talk about to occupy our time?" said Emily.

--

"This makes no sense!" said a very frustrated Morgan, resisting the urge to punch a wall. "Why would the unsub's kill so many different people with no connection?"

"We must be missing something," said Reid, ever the logical one.

Morgan resisted the urge to retort with a childish '_ya think?_'. They had finally left the old woman's house, none to the wiser to who their unsub's could possibly be. It was utterly ridiculous. He couldn't remember the last time they'd been on a case for so long without any leads at all. And now to top it all off, Hotch was sick, and Morgan feared that he was on his way to following. The painful twinges in his stomach had become increasingly painful as the day wore on.

Then as if to make matters worse, the first spatter of rain had appeared not a scant few minutes ago. While it was just a light drizzle now, there was no doubt in Morgan's mind that it was going to turn into a full blown storm at any given moment. He absolutely hated the rain.

Just as Morgan opened his mouth to voice this opinion, the door opened and an incredibly tired Sheriff Thorn walked in followed closely by young deputy.

"I've rounded up the entire village," he said wearily, "Going to talk to everyone together in the town hall. Tell them what we know and what we're going to do to stop it. That other agent said she'd help me but…" he trailed off, knowing full well that the three in front of him knew why Emily wasn't there.

"We'll all come," said JJ, "I'll help you."

"Reid and I will be on the look out for anything suspicious," added Morgan, glad that they were finally doing something of use.

Thorn nodded gratefully, "Well we have fifteen minutes until people will start arriving."

"Do you have the number for the motel?" asked Morgan, he wanted to see how Hotch was doing.

Obligingly, the sheriff said he didn't but went and found it on his very old fashioned computer for them. He dialled the number and handed Morgan the phone before leaving the room to give them a little privacy. It took mere seconds for Emily to answer the phone.

"_Prentiss_," she said in her characteristically brisk phone voice.

"Hey, Emily," replied Morgan, "How's Hotch doing?"

"_As well as can be expected considering he's been poisoned_."

Morgan felt his mouth drop open, "He's been what now?"

"_The doctor says he's been poisoned. We're still working on what poison though, and how it happened_," said Emily in a determinedly professional voice.

"Oh my God," said Morgan.

"_Did you find anything?_" asked Emily hopefully.

"No," admitted Morgan, "We're holding a meeting at the town hall in a few minutes though. Maybe we'll get something there."

"_Good_," said Emily, "_Well keep us posted_."

"Will do," replied Morgan, putting the phone down.

"What was that about?" asked Reid with a confused expression on his face.

"You're not gonna believe this…"

--

Over a hundred scared and confused faces stared up at JJ and Sheriff Thorn from their elevated platform at the front of the hall. Despite the fact that JJ spent a lot of her time in front of the media and holding press conferences, there was something about this situation that made her especially nervous. Maybe it was the ill concealed hatred aimed towards her.

"So you're telling me that you think this monster is one of us?" a man in the front row demanded angrily. JJ had never seen him before, but by the clothes he was wearing, she guessed that he was the priest that Morgan had told them about with his teenage daughter sat next to him.

"At this point anything is possible," said JJ in her most placating of tones.

"You've been here for days," another man piped up from the other side of the priest, "Why the hell haven't you stopped this yet!"

Before JJ could reply, Thorn spoke first, "Now come on, Arthur. They're doing their best. They didn't even have to come here, these are the FBI's finest. Let's not be disrespectful."

The man's face twisted into something resembling disgust, but he did not dare speak out against the sheriff so publicly. Obviously Thorn was well liked amongst the community. JJ looked up and met eyes with Morgan. He looked as troubled as she felt. This was not going quite the way they had hoped. Not that they expected any better at this point, but JJ was rather hoping that these people would be just a little more reasonable.

"So what exactly are you doing about it?" asked a woman from near the back of the room.

"We're going to patrol the streets tonight," said Thorn. JJ cringed internally, she wished he hadn't have told them that, it would have been better for the unsub's not to know where they would be, assuming one of them were in the room.

The woman looked unimpressed with this but conceded and sat back down.

Much to JJ's frustration, the rest of the meeting went exactly like this. People were frightened and angry, and unless they did something about it soon then JJ feared that it wouldn't just be the unsubs that they'd have to worry about.

--

A lone figure stood in the shadows outside the town hall. He smirked in amusement at the raised voices from within. Things were going even better than he'd thought they would. People from small villages were all so predictable. It was almost too easy.

The rain was becoming heavier, but he barely felt it. Things like the cold and rainwater were mere trivialities with which he did not concern himself.

An angry voice arose from within the hall, he recognised it as Father Mathew and let out a low chuckle. He would be the last to go. First things first though, he thought to himself, he needed to dispose of these agents. These _invaders_.

He threw his cigarette on the floor and stood on in to kill the last embers before setting off, fingering the small but sharp blade in his pocket, to complete his mission for the night.

--

**Author's Note(s):** For once, I have nothing to add. It's almost 3am and I'm tired :p

So good night and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **Right, so I'm very sorry this took so long. I'm afraid that annoying thing called real life has not been kind to me for the last couple of months and I've been rather distracted as of late. Anyway, I'm back now and assuming the internet in my new house starts to behave itself, I should be back to fairly regular posts.

So, a big thank you to Sue1313, tearbos, SLITH, ramona, Daniela, paradisebeach, didi2909, elisacollette, Megan, RavennaNightwind, need-courage-to-write, Montydog13, ssbailey and HonourSociety for the reviews. They are incredibly motivating. In response to Megan's question, no. Sorry, I should have made this clear, Miller is not getting the full story from the team. He's getting the bare minimum they can possibly share with him without it being completely obvious that they're missing stuff out. All the personal info isn't included.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 8

"Have a cake," said Doctor Miller, passing a plate around, "I have chocolate éclairs, cream cakes and muffins."

As much as he was loath to do anything that Doctor Miller told him to, Reid really wanted a chocolate éclair. So he settled for allowing a scowl to steal across his features as he accepted the cake without a word. He wasn't surprised to see Emily select the same. She was a not-so-secret chocoholic. It had been one of Reid's finest moments when he discovered the large chocolate bar hidden away in the bottom draw of Emily's desk. She had called it her just in case 'emergency stash'. Reid couldn't for the life of him think of a potential circumstance in which she might need some emergency chocolate, but she had assured him that there were many.

Hotch had been the only one to decline a cake, something which had made Doctor Miller smile slightly. Reid wondered how much longer he'd be able to resist punching him in the face.

"That must have been a long day," said Miller, returning to his comfortable chair behind his desk.

After swallowing his mouthful of cake, Reid said "Of course it was," but not with quite as much sarcasm as he was aiming for, then before he could stop himself, "This is the best éclair I've ever eaten in my whole life."

Miller let out a short laugh, "I know. I had my assistant get them from this adorable little bakery on the corner of…" he trailed off at the look on Hotch's face and suddenly looked a lot more stern, "Yes, well now is not the time to be talking about such things…"

Reid almost smiled. He didn't though.

"So, did you go on village patrol?" said Miller, changing the subject from cakes.

"We did," JJ confirmed.

"And did you apprehend your killers?" asked Miller, even though he knew full well that they hadn't.

"No," said JJ, folding her arms.

"Interesting. What _did_ happen that night?" said Miller, his eyes swivelling to Morgan, who had said very little in the last hour.

"_Nothing_ happened," said Morgan, "No murders. No disturbances. Nothing."

"Well that's…not entirely true," said Reid awkwardly.

"What?" said Morgan, fixing Reid with a penetrating stare. Reid gulped.

"The tyres could have happened that night," Reid told him.

Morgan looked thoughtful, "I never thought about that. I suppose you could be right there, youngster."

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Reid looked down at his knees. He was very tired. Physically and mentally. Although he couldn't deny that the chocolate éclair had cheered him up just a little bit. He'd have to go and buy some when they could finally leave this awful place. He made a mental note to remember to ask Miller for the address of the bakery before he left.

"We only found out about the tyres later so it could have been at any time," said Emily with a shake of her head.

Eyebrow raised, Miller looked curiously from one agent to another. He clearly had no idea what they were talking about, and nobody seemed to be leaping to explain it to him. He didn't press the matter though and focussed his attention onto Morgan.

"Agent Morgan," said Miller, "Would you care to continue the story please?"

Morgan clearly wore an expression that said, _no I would not care to_, but he did not voice these thoughts. Not that he needed to. Everybody in the room had training in human behaviour analysis, including presumably Doctor Miller. Though Reid suspected that even a child would recognise the mans rebellious scowl. Morgan opened his mouth but was cut off by a knock on the door.

Everyone turned to look at the offending block of wood.

"Come in," said Miller with polite curiosity.

The door swung open and in stepped a characteristically brightly decorated Penelope Garcia.

"Howdy, cowboys and cowgirls," she said with a smile, "How goes it?"

The BAU team shifted uncomfortably and nobody answered her.

"That well, huh?" she said with a soft chuckle. Then she turned to Doctor Miller with an apologetic smile. "Hi, I'm Penelope Garcia. The team's technical analyst."

Miller clapped his hands together and smiled, his eyes twinkling with ill-concealed amusement, "Oh it's lovely to meet you. I see you got my message then?"

"I did indeedio," said Garcia, and she turned to Reid and shot him a secret wink that made him smile.

"Excellent, your team speak very highly of you," said Miller.

Garcia looked at Morgan with a wicked grin on her face, "Awww, have you been talking about me, hot stuff?"

Letting out a short laugh, Morgan's eyes sparkled, revealing a little of his former self, "You know I have, sweetness. You're always on my mind."

"Don't I know it," said Garcia in agreement.

"Would you care to sit down, Miss Garcia?" said Miller, gesturing the only free space between Morgan and Hotch with his hand.

"Oh go on then," said Garcia, moving gracefully over to the couch. "Shift over there handsome."

Morgan shuffled over to give Garcia a little more room and Reid couldn't help but smile a little. All that woman had to do was literally just walk in a room and it would instantly brighten. He wasn't entirely sure when it had happened, but Reid knew that Miller must have called her and brought her here. Reid wondered if the old man knew that she would have this effect of them.

"Now, Agent Morgan," said Miller, interrupting the quippy banter going on between he and Garcia, "You were saying?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Hey, Morgan? You all right?" said JJ tiredly through the darkness.

He ignored her and carried on walking. They had been walking up and down this Godforsaken village now for about five hours. The rain was getting progressively heavier and had completely soaked through all of the many layers of clothes that JJ was wearing. She was shaking uncontrollably and desperately wanted to go to bed. She couldn't wait until the sun came up again. Morgan was suffering from the same thing of course, but his shaking seemed even more pronounced than her own. She stopped walking and tapped her foot impatiently, she was _not_ in the mood for this.

For a second she thought he was going to be stubborn and just keep walking without her. But he let out a deep sigh (not that she could hear it over the rain) and turned back.

"Not really," he said. JJ felt her eyes widen, she had thoroughly expected him to lie to her and insist that he was fine. It must be really bad if Morgan was willing to be honest about it.

"What's wrong?" she asked, putting her hand on his forehead before she could stop herself, "Oh my God, you're burning up!"

"I'm not feeling too good," Morgan admitted.

"Let's go back to the hotel," JJ said loudly over the rain.

Morgan grimaced and nodded, "I think that might be a good idea."

--

"I know what the poison is!" Doctor Brennan cried triumphantly, bursting into the room that Hotch and Emily were currently occupying. Emily almost jumped out of her skin.

"Don't you knock?" she asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

Brennan smile apologetically, "I'm sorry, Agent Prentiss. Didn't mean to startle you."

Emily waved his apology away with her free hand, "No, it's fine. I'm just a bit on edge. You were saying?"

"Yes," Brennan said excitedly, "I've been doing some research about the symptoms and while they really cover a multitude of possibilities, I _think_ I've narrowed it down to the most likely suspect."

There was a pause. Emily realised that Doctor Brennan had a bit of a flair for the dramatic despite his innate nervousness.

"_And_?" she prompted.

"Delphinium," he said, with a significant hand gesture.

Biting her lip in an effort to hold back her frustration, Emily glared at the physician. If he didn't give her some more information in the next ten seconds…

"The flower?" asked Hotch weakly.

"That's right."

"Didn't know it was poisonous," Hotch muttered through gritted teeth. Emily felt him squeeze her hand slightly as tremors racked his body.

Sombrely, Brennan nodded, "You are familiar with the plant, Agent Hotchner?"

"Had them in garden."

Brennan opened his mouth again, presumably to comment Hotch's apparent aptitude for gardening, but Emily interrupted him, "Can you cure him?"

"Um…" Brennan faltered and looked away, "Well…It isn't always fatal anyway…But given the extent of the symptoms…Um…Well…I don't really have the facilities here to um…cure him. No."

Hotch showed no outward reaction other than to increase the pressure to his hold of Emily's hand.

"What about elsewhere?" asked Emily.

"Oh yes, if we can get him to a real hospital then his chances are much improved," said Brennan eagerly.

Somehow, 'his chances are much improved' did not inspire Emily with confidence. She glanced at Hotch out the corner of her eye and noticed that he had maintained his stoic facial expression, bar the occasional flicker of pain in his eyes. She suppressed a sigh, she would be helping nobody by lashing out with negative cynicism so she forced her face into a neutral expression from the grimace she know she wore.

"Are you going to call them then?" she asked after a moments silence.

Brennan jumped as though surprised, "Why yes, of course," he blustered, "I'll be right back!"

Just after the doctor had exited the room, another painful spasm coursed through Hotch. He gasped and convulsed. Emily made a grab for his shoulder and pushed him back down into a lying position before he hurt himself. She closed her eyes and prayed that they would stop soon. Thankfully, they only lasted about thirty seconds and trembling subsided. Hotch groaned loudly and struggled to draw a deep breath.

Emily quickly grabbed the glass of water from the side of the bed and pressed it gently to Hotch's dry lips. He managed to drink some before coughing violently, almost knocking the glass out of her hand.

"Shhh," Emily said soothingly, replacing the glass of water with a damp towel she had acquired earlier and pressing the cool material to Hotch's forehead. "You're gonna be okay, Hotch. We're going to fix this."

Hotch shot her a doubtful look but said nothing.

"We will," she said in the most determined voice she could muster, "You're going to be fine. And in a few months time we'll all be laughing about this," then noticing the amused expression on his face, she blushed and quickly amended herself, "Okay, well maybe not _laughing_ per say but-"

"-It's okay," Hotch croaked, "I know what you mean."

Nodding awkwardly, Emily continued her attempt to reduce his climbing fever.

"But if I don't-"

"You will!"

"But if I don't," Hotch persisted weakly, "I want you do to something for me."

Not liking where this was going, but playing along anyway, Emily nodded, "Anything."

"Could you write a letter to Jack for me please? I would but…" he lifted his hand up as far as he could from the bed to show her how badly it shook, not that she couldn't already tell from his other hand which she clung to.

"I don't think–"

"Please," Hotch pleaded.

"All right," Emily conceded, swallowing hard against the rising lump in her throat. "Do you have paper?"

Hotch nodded and pointed to his bag. She dropped his hand and stood up. It felt wrong to be looking through his things, but she did it anyway until she had fished out a pad of paper and a pen from his ready bag. She held them up to Hotch and he nodded approvingly.

Emily resumed her seat and flipped the notebook open to an empty page, pen poised to write.

"Dear, Jack," Hotch began.

--

Doctor Brennan all but sprinted down the street. Obviously that agent fellow didn't have as much time left as he'd originally thought, the symptoms were increasing rather more dramatically than they should have been. He tried to ignore the rain as he jogged but it became virtually impossible when his foot struck the ground at a peculiar angle and he slipped into a large puddle.

A long stream of expletives escaped his lips and he struggled to stand up. That is, until someone grabbed him from behind and dragged him to his feet. For a moment Brennan froze with shock. _Please don't be the killer_, he thought redundantly.

"Oh, it's you," said the Doctor, turning around to the figure behind him.

His rescuer smiled, "Yes. Are you okay?"

Brennan frowned and was about to tell him that he certainly was not okay, when something caught his eye. It was two of the other agents. He'd forgotten their names, but it was the blonde girl and the black guy. The man seemed to be leaning on the blonde while they staggered down the road, presumably towards the building he himself had left just ten minutes ago. He groaned loudly.

"Oh no, what is it this time…" he grumbled.

The person in front of him glanced over to where he was looking and he frowned deeply, "That's those agents," he observed.

Brennan suddenly glanced to his helper suspiciously, "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh nothing really, just walking. Thought I might offer to help with the village patrol," he replied innocently with a slightly apologetic grin.

"Mmmm," said Brennan, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, "Actually, there is something you can do to help me."

"Oh?" was the curious reply.

"I need you to make a phone call for me…"

"Sure thing, Doctor."

--

Morgan clutched at his stomach involuntarily. He'd felt ill all day, but it suddenly seemed to have hit him with full force. He really hoped that he was just sick and hadn't been poisoned like Hotch apparently had, but he didn't hold out much hope. With the run of bad luck they'd been having lately, Morgan didn't hold out much hope for anything really.

He stumbled slightly and felt JJ totter with him. He'd have to make more of an effort to keep upright, he thought, because there was no way that JJ would be able to hold him up if he actually fell. Poor woman. He felt a little bad about the whole thing if he were honest, she'd obviously been having a problem with the case from the very beginning and now he was clearly proving her previous fears right. She must be feeling awful right now.

"Hey, JJ," he said loudly over the rain.

"Yea?" she replied breathlessly.

"Are you okay?"

JJ looked over at him, then bizarrely she smiled and started to laugh.

"What? What's so funny?" asked Morgan, confused at her reaction.

"Well, here we are. Staggering through the streets with you sick and probably poisoned, and _you_ are asking _me_ whether I'm okay," she answered, and then she added, "Which I am, by the way."

Observing her closely, Morgan smirked, "You're a pretty good liar, you know."

JJ rolled her eyes and kept on moving. They managed to walk another five hundred metres or so before they heard heavy footsteps behind them.

"Hey! Wait up!" shouted a voice. Morgan turned his head and saw the doctor guy running up behind them. They stopped until he drew level with them. "Is everything all right?" he shouted over the rain.

"We think Morgan has been poisoned too," JJ yelled back. The wind was picking up and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hear each other.

"I feared that might be the case," said the doctor anxiously. "We should get you back now before the next set of symptoms kick in."

"Gee, ya think?" Morgan shouted. Luckily the Doctor didn't seem to hear him. He took Morgan's arm and draped it over his shoulder so it was no longer just JJ trying to support him, and together they made quite a peculiar trio making slow but stead progress down the road.

--

He used the key Brennan had given him to open the door to his surgery. If it could be called that. As far as he was concerned this was one of the worst places in the whole pathetic little village. The scent of disinfectant and metal made him feel nauseous. It was all too clean and sterile.

Spotting the phone, he grabbed a piece of paper and pen off the nearest surface and pressed it against the wall to write.

_Called hospital. Said they'd be on way first thing in morning_, he wrote, and then as an afterthought he added a, _GOOD LUCK_.

He placed the note carefully next to the phone before exiting the building with a self satisfied smirk.

--

**Author's Note(s):** Again, sorry about the whole massive gap between chapters thing. Hope you liked this one though.

On a slightly unrelated note, how awesome is that new 'Reader Traffic' thing. Who knew that people from so many different countries where reading.

Mayhem was amazing.

Ciao for now,  
Rubiks


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **Danke shon to RavennaNightwind, Sue1313, didi2909, PB, drea78, jessalynnGSR, 1dStraightCurve and lauriebug! As always, I really appreciate your support :-) I hope you like this chapter. Things are gonna start happening now.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 9

Doctor Miller pressed the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully and surveyed the team over his glasses.

"The both of you had been poisoned then?" he asked curiously, "At the same time?"

"We can't be sure," Hotch replied neutrally, "But we think so."

Though he naturally couldn't say it out loud, Hotch was beginning to become rather bored of these proceedings. He was growing tired faster than he usually would, much to his shame and anger. But he supposed weeks of bed rest would do that to you. He just needed to build up his stamina again. By this point though, Hotch suspected that was true of all of his team. Except Garcia of course.

Briefly his thoughts drifted to Penelope Garcia, who was seated happily in between Morgan and himself. She really was the heart and soul of the team and he honestly didn't know what they'd do without her. He was eternally grateful that she hadn't been there in Augusta Falls with them.

A quite 'hmm' from Miller brought his attention back to present time again.

"So the 'unsub' was someone who you had both spoken to then," he said pensively. At that point Hotch realised they had the other man hooked. He was interested now. He wanted to know who the killers where. Hotch felt a little satisfaction over this although he wasn't quite sure why.

Then Miller asked, "Why did the poison affect you, Agent Hotchner, more than Agent Morgan? Assuming the dose was administered at the same time."

"We think it was because Morgan had a smaller amount than I did, and his immune system was more effective in fighting it off," replied Hotch, finding it rather difficult to keep the weariness out of his voice.

What Hotch didn't mention was that his stress levels had been so high during that point, because of his problems at home, that his immune system had actually been failing him for a while. He believed he was somewhere between the Resistant Stage and quietly passing over into the Exhaustion Stage. Or at least he imagined that would have been Doctor Miller's diagnosis, Hotch himself wasn't a psychiatrist and his psychological knowledge was fairly specialised.

"I see," said Miller slowly. He was looking at Hotch over his spectacles in a way that made him feel bizarrely uncomfortable. Almost as though he could read his mind. It was a strange sensation. "So," Miller continued, "When did your dashing medics in shining armour come to rescue you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch could see Morgan clenching his teeth in annoyance. Miller was once again acting like he didn't know what had happened even though he had read the report that contained the basic outline of their investigation. It was severely irritating. It was a good job Hotch was too tired to be angry about it.

"They didn't," he said shortly.

"Why ever not?" ask Miller, shifting his eyes over to Morgan.

Morgan visibly forced himself to relax at the comforting smile Garcia shot him before answering, "We aren't sure, but we think the doctor had met the unsub and then sent him to call the hospital while he went back to the hotel with me and JJ."

"How unfortunate," Miller remarked.

"You ain't just whistling Dixie," said Garcia with an easy smile.

As Doctor Miller's eyes twinkled merrily, Hotch resisted the urge to tell Garcia to stop being so friendly with him. No, that would be childish…

"Now, from your reports, I gather things went downhill from there?" Miller continued, glancing down at JJ's document from the top of his desk and flicking through it.

"Well they didn't get any better," said Reid with a grimace.

"For you in particular, Doctor Reid," said Miller distractedly. He was still reading bits of JJ's report.

Reid made a noncommittal noise but said nothing.

"In fact," Miller continued, "You seem to have had rather a poor string of luck lately full stop."

"Do I?" muttered Reid in a false sounding disinterested voice.

Now, Hotch was in two minds. One, it was absolutely no business of Miller's what Reid's background on the team happened to be, however as far as he knew Reid had never really talked to anyone about the things that had happened lately and this would probably be good for him.

"You certainly do," said Miller, bobbing his head in that strange way again, "How do you feel about that?"

"Feel about what? Bad luck? I don't believe in luck," replied Reid, not looking anybody in the eye.

"No," said Miller slowly, he seemed to be weighing every word as he spoke, "How do you feel about this constant victimisation? It can't have escaped your notice that you've ended up on the bad side of a case more often than any of your team mates."

Hotch watched carefully as Reid's mouth opened and closed, rather like a goldfish. He was clearly at a loss for words.

"I…don't know what you mean," Reid insisted finally.

"Oh, all right," said Miller, leaning over to one of his desk drawers and pulling out another file with the name 'Dr. S Reid' clearly printed across the top, "Let me refresh your memory."

"Wait," said Reid quickly, "Don't…just…don't."

For a moment, Hotch thought he saw a flicker of sadness in Miller's face. He hid it well though if it was even there at all.

"One incident I'm particularly interested in," he said remorselessly, "is this Tobias Henkle."

Reid's eyes widened in unmistakable horror but Miller pressed on.

"You seem to have refused psychological treatment afterwards," Miller observed, "Why was that?"

"Well…I…" Reid fumbled, "I…didn't need it."

"I see," said Miller with a kind smile, "And after, did your behaviour change at all?" He glanced quickly over at Emily. "Towards any of your team mates perhaps?"

"What? No…I don't…Maybe…" said Reid guiltily. Hotch knew what he was thinking of. The way he had behaved towards Emily for the couple of months following his kidnapping. She had been an easy target after all. The new girl who nobody really trusted.

"And who was that?" asked Miller relentlessly.

"All right," said Emily sharply, causing everyone in the room to look at her with surprise. "That's enough. Leave him alone. This has nothing to do with the case at Augusta Falls."

Miller had the decency to look mildly apologetic. Not much though. "I'm sorry," he said, "But I do feel that this is essential to help Doctor Reid move on from his ordeal."

Emily opened her mouth, presumably to utter some sort of caustic comment, but Reid beat her to it.

"No, Emily. He's right. I never did apologise for that, did I? I was awful to you and you deserve better. I'm sorry," said Reid earnestly. He was actually looking her in the eye now, as though willing her to believe him. Hotch had the strange desire to hug both of them.

"There's nothing to be sorry-"

"Please, Emily. I'm really really sorry," Reid pleaded; he now seemed oblivious to everyone else in the room, who were on a whole feeling rather uncomfortable.

"I forgive you," said Emily softly, her eyes cast down as she twisted her stick between her fingers.

If Miller was pleased with this development, he didn't show it. His eyes simply twinkled benignly and he cast a sweeping look over the team.

"Would someone care to continue with the story please?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was starting to get light by the time JJ had Morgan settled in a bed with Doctor Brennan fussing over him. She bit her lip and listened carefully to what the Doctor was saying about the poison. Or at least she tried to. Her mind kept wandering to her two bedridden colleagues so she missed large chunks of the conversation.

Next door, she knew Hotch was now floating in and out of consciousness. Luckily he was awake more than he was asleep, but that was hardly much consolation. Oh well, thought JJ, mustn't panic. The hospital would be coming to take them to safety any minute now.

"Agent Jareau?" said Brennan, in a way that suggested he'd been trying to get her attention for quite some time.

"Sorry, yes?" she said quickly.

Brennan shot her a sympathetic look before saying, "I think we should bring Agent Hotchner in here so it will be easier to keep an eye on them both."

"Good idea," said JJ with a nod. Then she looked at Morgan, "Are you going to be okay for a couple of minutes."

Morgan grinned weakly from the bed, "I'm not dead yet, JJ. I think I'll manage."

Not liking his choice of words, JJ frowned. She took him at his word though and off they went to go and get Hotch, who thankfully was awake. They told him and Emily the plan and then together they managed to haul him into the other bed in Morgan's room just in time for a rather flustered Reid to arrive.

"What happened?" he said worriedly, looking between Hotch and Morgan.

"Morgan's been poisoned as well," said JJ, trying desperately to stop her voice from wavering.

"Wait…What? How!" Reid demanded, "With what?"

Everyone looked at Brennan at this point who went a little pink at the scrutiny, "Well, I think the poison is a plant called delphinium."

"Delphinium?" said Reid thoughtfully, "It must have been a large amount then because the symptoms shouldn't be this severe."

"That's what I thought," said Brennan in agreement.

"Have you called the nearest hospital?" asked Reid, "I doubt you have the facilities here to treat them."

"Yes," said Brennan, "Well…Sort of."

Hotch cleared his throat loudly and everyone turned to look at him, "Doctor, do you…have any…idea…where the poison could have…come from?" he said, his speech littered with pained pauses.

"No I do-" suddenly Brennan froze, "Oh my God…"

"What?" JJ demanded.

"Oh no…" Brennan carried on as though he'd completely forgot that he wasn't the only person in the room, "No no no no…"

"Doctor!" said Email loudly, startling the man out of his chant.

"I um…Need to go and check something," he said quickly, "I'll be back soon."

With that he scurried from the room muttering unintelligibly under his breath, leaving a confused group of profilers behind him.

"What was all that about?" Reid wondered.

"Maybe he's had a breakthrough," Emily remarked without hope.

"Or a breakdown," replied JJ cynically.

"I'm glad you're all staying so optimistic," said Morgan, shifting to a more comfortable lying position in his bed. He grimaced slightly and JJ knew that the pain was getting worse. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Hotch. It just seemed wrong to see him in this state.

"Reid…What do you know about delphinium?" asked Hotch.

"Not much," Reid told him, "Just that it isn't often fatal but if taken in large doses can cause muscle weakness, spasms and convulsions, vomiting and the respiratory system eventually shuts down and…" he trailed off at the look Emily was giving him.

"We could call Garcia," JJ suggested.

"Good idea," said Morgan, "But don't tell her I'm sick."

"But…"

"No," said Morgan firmly. "I don't want her worrying more than she already is."

JJ reluctantly agreed and left the room. There was a phone by the bar downstairs.

As she walked along the corridor and down the stairs, JJ's mind drifted to her initial misgivings about this case. She wasn't sure if she was pleased or not about her accurate foresight. At least she now knew to always trust her instincts. It didn't stop this for being some of the worst days of her life though. She desperately needed sleep and so did the rest of the team. Well, obviously Hotch and Morgan couldn't sleep just in case they…she didn't finish that thought. Reid looked practically dead on his feet though and the dark bags under Emily's eyes clashed fantastically against her pale skin. She wondered if she looked quite as bad.

She stopped by the phone and picked up the receiver, trapping it between her shoulder and ear.

She was too tired to notice that there was no dialling tone at first.

Her fingers instinctively danced across the numbers that would call Garcia's phone. It was only when it didn't ring that JJ realised that something wasn't right.

Hang on a second…she thought. She put down the phone and picked it up again. There was no noise coming from it. At all. She swallowed nervously and looked around before turning back to the phone and checking for any loose wires.

Then a strange sensation stole over her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She spun around quickly and narrowed her eyes.

It felt as though she were being watched.

"Hello?" she said in a shaky voice, "Is anyone there?"

She took a deep breath and squinted against the darkness in the room. There was nothing there.

"Hello?" she said in a stronger voice, taking a tentative step forward.

There! Out the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw something move.

She pulled out her gun and took slow steps forward. Her heart thudded so loudly that even if whoever it was couldn't see her, they'd definitely be able to hear her. It sounded like a stampeding army for goodness sake.

As she moved closer to the corner of the room, where there stood a large cabinet with old wartime photographs and antique vases and ornaments, she felt her breathing quicken.

She drew level with the display case and looked around cautiously.

A cat yowled from the shadows and JJ leapt back in fright, tripping over a chair leg and sending herself sprawling onto the floor with her gun flying out of her hand.

"Ahh!" she cried as she landed on her back, the loud thud causing the cat to jump down from his hiding place atop the cabinet and run off, making equally horrendous shrieking noises.

JJ groaned loudly but made no effort to get up. After all it wasn't that uncomfortable down there on the floor…maybe she could have a nap…

"JJ?" said a male voice.

"Yes, Reid?" replied JJ tiredly.

"What are you doing on the floor?" the boy asked in astonished tones.

"I wanted to see if the view was better," said JJ sarcastically, forcing herself to sit up, "What the hell do you think I was doing?"

Making an 'o' shape with his mouth, Reid quickly rushed forward to help JJ to her feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he steadied her against him.

"I'm fine," said JJ, offering him a weak smile.

Then together they walked back to the room were there friends where.

"Did Garcia have any useful information?" asked Emily as the two agents sat down.

JJ hung her head, knowing that nobody was going to like what she was about the say.

"She may have done, but I wouldn't know because the phone wasn't working," said JJ dejectedly.

"I don't understand…" began Emily.

"You think the phone lines have been cut, don't you?" asked Morgan knowingly.

"Oh my God…" Emily said under her breath.

"We need to get out of here," said Hotch quietly.

--------------------

Doctor Brennan half jogged, half limped to his surgery. Not only had it been a ridiculously long twenty-four hours, but he was still feeling that tumble he had taken earlier. At least it was raining though so he could use that as an excuse for being so wet. The dirt would be a little harder to explain away if he bumped into anybody… Though really he wasn't sure keeping his dignity in tact was worth the freezing cold that was seeping through to his bones.

When he arrived at his destination he noticed that his door was ajar. _Oh no…_

He pushed it open and made a beeline for his phone and picked it up. He held it to his ear and cursed loudly when it made no sound. Someone must have cut the wires. He threw it against the wall in frustration and then noticed the little note on a table. He picked it up and grimaced as he read it.

"Oh you're a clever one," he muttered darkly.

"Thank you," said a low voice behind him.

Brennan spun around in horror.

"Oh no," he groaned, "Not you too."

A heavy object swung towards his head. Doctor Brennan was dead before he hit the ground.

--------------------

**Author's Note(s):** Well, Uni is back in full swing. I have about sixteen essays and practical reports to do in about two weeks. It's a good job I have my priorities right and decided to write this chapter instead.

Anyway, poor Doctor Brennan. May he rest in peace.

Thanks for reading,  
Rubiks


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **I know I know…It's been practically years. I'm sorry. I'm going to be punished and sent to the depths of hell. Okay well that might be a little extreme. Dante sent people to hell for less though. Anyway, a huge, massive, colossal, mammoth (I'm starting to run out of words…) and giant thank you to ssbailey, tearbos, kdzl, Sue1313, jessalynnGSR, didi2909, missiemeghan, drea78, RavennaNightwind, brandi, Chikacookie, dncnmndy, DreamingofNothing, Nat365, the-vampire-act, ColourPearl and JJ. Thank you for being patient with me.

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 10

In her line of work, Penelope Garcia was both disturbed and strangely proud of the fact that nothing really surprised her anfymore. She had seen the depths of depravity to which the human mind could lower itself to and so, nothing shocked her like it had done when she'd first began her work with the FBI.

_This_, however, was a new low.

It was wrong on so many levels.

All her favourite people in the world scattered about the room looking so passive and worn-down.

It was enough to make her feel ill.

She had watched the most recent exchange between Reid and Dr Miller with interest. She'd never really seen Reid and Emily talk to each other during the time after Hankle because she didn't go on cases with them, so all of this was news to her. If she were honest though, she wasn't at all surprised. Reid had been different after that case. Sure, he'd recovered pretty well eventually. But as odd as it sounded, even to herself, it was as though the experience had stolen his innocence. His innocence, which he had somehow retained despite the horrors of his job. Up until that point at least.

She hoped he'd be able to get through this.

In fact, she hoped all of them could.

They had just reached the part of the story where it seemed like all hope was lost. Garcia hadn't been told an exact blow by blow account of the case, but she knew enough of it to realise she didn't really want to be there to hear the rest. She would stay though. Partly because Miller had assured her that her presence would help her team, but mainly because the defeated look on Morgan's face struck up a desire in her never to leave his side again.

It had been about five minutes since anybody had spoken. JJ had described to Miller how she had found out that the phone lines had been cut, effectively severing all communication with the outside world, and since then Miller had been rifling through various pieces of paper and staring at them intently through his spectacles. Garcia had been so lost in thought that she hadn't even noticed how long the quietness had lasted. She did now though, and as she looked around the room she realised the profilers were also acutely aware of the awkward silence that stretched out before them.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who you were in the room, Miller looked up and leaned back in his chair, carefully surveying the team. He appeared thoughtful. Then he almost imperceptibly shook his head and looked over to Hotch. Garcia was amazed how Hotch managed to retain his calm expression and look Miller in the eye. She knew full well he must be exhausted. In fact she was pretty sure he was still being instructed by his doctor to only stay up and about for short periods of time. At least those were Morgan's instructions. She had tried to make him stick to it, but the man was the most stubborn creature she had ever met. And she loved him for it.

"Well then," said Miller finally, "with a third of your team out of commission I can't imagine things became much easier from that point onwards?"

Nobody answered, much to Garcia's dismay.

Miller, of course, seemed unfazed by this.

"Were you coherent by that point Agent Hotchner?" the man enquired politely, with such a tone of triviality that one would think he were simply discussing the weather or what had happened in last nights episode of Scrubs.

"I was in and out of consciousness, but my brain was still fully functional," Hotch replied in a deadpan voice.

"I see," said Dr Miller. "Did it hurt?"

"Did what hurt?" asked Hotch sharply.

Miller raised an eyebrow, "You know what I mean."

Hotch pursed his lips and Garcia almost wanted to cry because of it. "I was poisoned."

"Yes yes," said Miller dismissively, "That wasn't what I asked though."

Garcia almost flinched. She knew he had to ask these questions to help her team get better, but she wished he didn't have to be so harsh.

Waiting a moment, Hotch narrowed his eyes and simply said, "Yes."

Out of the corner of her eye, Garcia noticed Emily turn her head to look at Hotch, a look of almost desperate compassion on her face. It took a great deal of self restraint for Garcia not to get up and throw her arms around the woman.

Miller seemed to have noticed this look too, but he kept his attention focused on Hotch.

"And how did that make you feel?" asked Miller.

A small snort came from Reid's direction and he looked at Miller incredulously, "Are you serious?"

Miller smiled, a little sadly, and replied, "I'm afraid so. As overused as the phrase is, sometimes it is necessary to produce that old chestnut in the interest of progress."

"Well I wouldn't want to get in the way of progress…" Reid muttered sarcastically.

It was all officially too much for Garcia to handle. She kept her facial expression in check as best she could, but she could feel her heart breaking for them. She looked at Miller, her eyes pleading with him to stop. But all he did was shoot her a brief look of sympathy before repeating his earlier question to Hotch.

Though she wanted to jump up and scream, all Garcia did was discretely slip her hand into Hotch's and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked down, the merest hint of surprise on his face. But then he faced Miller again.

"Well obviously I'd had better days," he said with a certain amount of determination.

"Which hurt the most, Agent Hotchner? The physical pain or the complete loss of control?" asked Miller.

Garcia felt Hotch's grip on her hand tighten a little.

"I'm not sure that 'loss of control' is the best way to describe it," Hotch said darkly, "I was very concerned for the rest of my team's safety however."

Miller nodded, as though that had been the exact response he had been expecting, and there was something almost akin to a respectful look on his face. Garcia was glad of it.

"Do you often feel as though your team's safety is your top priority?"

"I do," said Hotch.

"Above solving your cases?" Miller enquired.

Hotch paused. "I often find cases are easier to close when my team are all safe and healthy."

"I see," said Miller, "And that is your motivation for wanting to protect your colleagues then? So they can help you to solve crime more efficiently?"

If Garcia didn't know any better, she'd say that Hotch was practising the art of counting to ten and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. It definitely took longer than it should have done for him to reply though.

"No."

Miller made rather a false sounding noise of surprise, "Oh? And what is your motivation then?"

"I've lost team members before," Hotch began, "I'm not doing it again."

"You aren't God, Agent Hotchner. You can't always protect your team. This case has proven that," Miller pointed out.

"Perhaps not," said Hotch, although he sounded like he believed no such thing, "But that won't stop me from trying."

To say she was surprised would be rather an understatement. Garcia had never heard Hotch speak with such frankness and honesty before. It gave him an unfamiliar air of vulnerability that she just wasn't accustomed to. It was quite sweet really.

Though he had sounded almost antagonistic before, Doctor Miller's face broke into a smile and he said, "I would expect no less. But the fact remains, Agent Hotchner, that you are not a miracle worker. You can't prevent every bad thing from happening."

For a moment Hotch looked like he was about to respond. But instead he shook his head slightly and let out a deep breath. If Garcia didn't know better, she'd say he almost looked a little better for it.

"Now, before we continue, would anyone like another cake?" said Miller brightly.

Morgan rolled his eyes while Garcia smiled and politely declined. However at the other end of the room, Reid was looking shiftily and Emily.

"Split one?" he said in a secretive voice.

She grinned, "Oh go on then."

"Marvellous," said Miller, passing Reid a second chocolate éclair and selecting a cream cake for himself. "Rightho," he then said, "When did your good doctor return from his mysterious jaunt?"

"He didn't," said JJ sadly.

"Oh?" asked Doctor Miller, his brows furrowing as he glanced down at the report on his desk and turned the page.

"He was killed," she continued, looking at her knees.

"Oh," repeated Miller, "What happened?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It had taken less than five minutes for the team to come up with a plan. For one thing, none of them had slept in almost twenty-four hours, which was not exactly the best condition to be tracking down several potentially crazed and armed lunatics, so at least a couple of them needed to get some rest before any further action was taken. For this, JJ and Reid were elected considering they had been the most active in the last several hours.

Meanwhile, Emily was to go in search of Doctor Brennan and meet back up with the locals for a report. After which Hotch had given her explicit instructions to get back to their B&B and go to bed while they waited for the paramedics to arrive from the nearest hospital.

Emily stood up from her chair and brushed herself down, "All right then. I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Be careful, Prentiss," Hotch said as she turned to leave.

She looked back and offered him a wry smile, "I will."

As soon as she closed the door behind her, Emily yawned loudly and rubbed her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so tired. It was with an oddly dazed expression that she exited the motel and began to walk down the street to Brennan's surgery. She guessed that's where he would have gone.

It was still raining, although admittedly not as hard as it had been last night. There were still thunderous looking storm clouds crossing the sky though so Emily had no doubt that the rain wouldn't be holding back for much longer. Bloody typical.

It took her almost twenty minutes, which she decided was rather a testament to how exhausted she was. She was quite sure that the journey should have been shorter. As she drew closer to the door, she noticed that it was slightly ajar. Her eyes widened and she prayed to God that Brennan had just left it open in his absent mindedness. As a precaution, she took out her gun as she gently pushed the door open.

"Doctor Brennan?" she called, as she stepped inside.

The pool of blood was the first thing that caught her attention. She felt her mouth fall open ungracefully as her eyes followed the trail of red to the body, lying face down on the floor. She darted forward and bent down to check his pulse. The lack of beat made Emily groan softly.

She jumped up and spun around, gun held high. Then after a sweeping look of the surgery, she decided that whoever had done this had already left. She placed her gun back in the holster and looked around in dismay. What the hell was she supposed to do? She couldn't just leave. But she also had no way of contacting anyone.

She got up and walked over to the phone, which of course had been disconnected. Then something caught her eye. It was a note.

Picking it up, Emily examined it carefully. Having had so little sleep in the last few days, her mental processing was not quite as efficient as it would normally be, and so it took her a couple of minutes to realise that it was probably the unsub who had written the note.

That must be why he bolted from the room so fast, Emily thought. Brennan must have realised who the unsub had been. He must have seen him last night and had asked him to call the nearest hospital. Probably around the time that he had seen Morgan and JJ. Then he had come back to check that the call had been made. Then with a thrill of horror, she realised that the call had in fact probably not been made.

Which meant there was no help coming.

She dropped her head into her hands and took a deep shuddering breath. Then making a quick decision, she left the surgery, closing the door firmly behind her, and ran to the police station.

--------------------

It took two and a half hours for her to get back to the B&B. She practically staggered through the door and the owner looked up in surprise.

"I say!" he exclaimed, "Agent Prentiss is it? Are you all right?"

It took her a moment to register the words and she looked at the concerned man.

"I'm fine," she said, "I'm starving though. Do you think you could bring us some sandwiches when you have a minute please?"

"Of course," said the old man, nodding his head vigorously.

"Thank you," replied Emily with a weak smile as she almost stumbled forward and then practically sprinted up the stairs to the room she knew Hotch and Morgan where in.

She burst in the room and saw that Hotch and Morgan were thankfully both awake.

"Emily!" said Morgan from his bed, sounding falsely scandalised, "Don't you knock? We could have naked in here or something."

"Why would you have been naked?" she said, sounding thoroughly perplexed.

Morgan grinned, "I don't know. That's hardly the point now is it."

She rolled her eyes. Although it was good to know that his poisoning hadn't ruined his sense of humour.

"Prentiss?" Hotch interrupted, "What's wrong?"

"It's Brennan," she said, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. "He's dead."

"What!?"

She sat on the end of Hotch's bed and explained to the two what had happened.

"Then the sheriff said he'd send the deputy to get help in their car, but he came running back in five minutes later saying that the tyres had been slashed and someone had been messing with the engine," Emily continued breathlessly.

Morgan's eyes widened and Hotch closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Neither of the other two profilers in the room failed to notice how his voice still shook with pain.

"Why couldn't you just use somebody else's phone?"

"Someone has knocked down the telephone pole down with a car," Emily replied with a defeated tone.

"What's…happening now then?" Hotch muttered, almost as though he were unable to raise his voice any higher.

"We went to the mechanics to borrow a car and apparently all of their vehicles have been tampered with too. The two of them are working on the most salvageable one at the moment and someone can take it as soon as it's ready," said Emily. "They said it should take them until about five o clock this evening."

Morgan, who hadn't said anything in a while, finally looked up at Emily with ill-concealed terror stricken eyes. "Five o clock?"

Before she could reply, there was a quiet knock on the door and Emily rose to answer it. It was the landlord with a plate of sandwiches. She thanked him for them and he left.

"Ah…I'll eat these in the other room," Emily said guiltily and she glanced down at her bedridden colleagues.

"It's fine, Prentiss," Hotch said with his eyes closed, "You're allowed to eat."

"Right," said Emily, still feeling guilty.

"Is there anything else?" he prompted as she sat back down.

"No. Just that I have a couple of walkie-talkies in my pocket so we can be contacted when either the car is ready or if we're needed."

"Okay then," said Hotch. "Leave one in here and take one with you, and for God's sake go and get some sleep. You look even worse than me."

--------------------

Before going to bed, Emily decided to have a quick shower. She'd feel icky and unclean for the rest of the day otherwise. Plus, she needed to override the smell of death. Logically there was no way she should still be able to smell the two corpses of the last twenty-four hours. She knew it was probably all in her head. But if the coconut shampoo made her feel better then she'd be damned if she was going to stop.

When she was dry, she pulled on some pyjamas and glanced at JJ's empty bed. She wasn't at all surprised that JJ had chosen to stay with Reid in the double bed in Hotch's room. Hopefully at least the woman would get a little bit of sleep that way with the extra feeling of protection. Emily quashed the insecurity she felt at the thought of sleeping in this empty room alone.

As she lay down, she was suddenly reminded of a conversation she'd had with JJ only a couple of nights ago. She'd said that there was something off with this case, and as it turned out, JJ had been right. Emily wished she had listened to her. Not that it would have made a blind bit of difference. It wasn't like they could have just up and left because they 'had a bad feeling' about it. Yes. That would have gone down splendidly.

She amused herself for a moment by imagining the look on Hotch's face if they had actually decided to leave, but quickly sobered when the image of Hotch, frail and ill, pushed through her fantasy. She frowned and buried her face into her pillow.

To her later surprise, she actually did manage to fall asleep at some point. Of course, it hadn't lasted long. The sound of frantic voices over the walkie-talkie saw to that.

--------------------

**Author's Note(s):** I'm sorry again :-(

On a lighter note, my Criminal Minds Season 3 DVD's arrive a few days ago after I pre-ordered them on Amazon. It's all very exciting! I sense a Criminal Minds-athon in my future.

Hope you liked this chapter and thanks for reading,  
Rubiks


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one.

**Author's Note(s): **So…still alive. Weird, huh? Happy Valentines Day all! I bet you can guess how exciting my day has been based on me being online to post right now. I hope Leigh59, Sue1313, JJstar52, ramona, dncnmndy, didi2909, RavennaNightwind, tearbos, h, MissingLashes, jessalynnGSR, the-vampire-act, Cushion, Betan, 88Keys, sophie and Jay Marthow have had an especially good V-Day. Thanks for taking the time to review :-)

**Danse Macabre  
**Chapter 11

"My goodness," said Miller, with an eyebrow raised. "That poor Doctor."

"We know," said JJ coldly.

Morgan looked sympathetically over to where JJ was sitting. She had taken Brennan's death particularly hard. She obviously thought it was their fault, and if he were honest, he wasn't sure if he disagreed with her. It was a bloody stupid thing to do of course, running off like he did. They could have done more to stop him. Forced him to sit down and tell them his suspicions.

"Did he have any family?" asked Miller rather sadly.

"He had a sister and a couple of nephews," replied JJ evenly.

"Ah…and who notified them of the death?" Miller probed.

"Sheriff Thorn, presumably," JJ again. "We didn't tell them at least."

"Didn't have the time I suppose," said Miller kindly. JJ did not reply.

The fact was they hadn't had time. From that moment on, events had spiralled very quickly out of control, and unless the poor guys family had wanted to come and chat with Hotch and himself while they lay in their potential deathbeds it just couldn't be helped. Morgan closed his eyes briefly and tried to gather himself. All this talking was exhausting.

"Well," said Miller, clasping his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him, "Agent Prentiss," his gaze shifted to Emily, "You arrived back at the hotel and shared your information with your team," Emily nodded, "Then what did you do?"

A very brief look of puzzlement crossed her face at this question, "I slept."

"Is that all?" asked Miller persistently.

"Well, I showered first if that's what you mean?" Emily replied, sharing a confused look with Morgan who attempted to smile at her.

"Why did you do that?" said Miller. He was obviously going somewhere with this line of questioning, but Morgan had no idea where.

"For the reason I imagine most people shower," said Emily, both confusion and sarcasm lightly peppering her voice.

Miller smiled benignly, "Of course, Agent Prentiss. Moving on then, you went to bed and then what happened?"

"I was woken up by the deputy sheriff shouting down the radio," Emily informed him.

"How many hours sleep did you get?" asked Miller. Mmm…Sleep…That sounded good to Morgan. Maybe nobody would notice if he had a little nap…

"I don't remember," said Emily, her eyes flicking to an empty corner of the room in a way that let everyone in the room know that she knew exactly how much sleep she'd had, "A few."

"I see," said Miller, he almost sounded disappointed. He probably thought he'd managed to break through all of their defences by now and that they'd all be pouring out their heart and soul to him. Waxing lyrical about their pain and woe perhaps. Not likely, thought Morgan. "What did the deputy sheriff have to say for himself then?"

"It was hard to pick out individual words," Emily admitted, "I caught something about a kidnapping, the devil and getting to the church. There was static and he was panicking."

"I see," Miller repeated. If he said 'I see' one more time Morgan swore he was going to start throwing punches. "And then what happened?"

"I woke JJ and Reid and we moved back in to Hotch and Morgan's room," said Emily while absentmindedly resting her hand on her damaged leg and grimacing ever so slightly.

"Then you all agreed that some of you should go and investigate?" asked Miller mildly. His question sounded far too much like a throwaway comment for Morgan to believe that he didn't know what answer he was going to get.

"Yes," said Morgan forcefully. Emily shot him a reproachful look. Everyone in the room knew full well that she was prepared to shoulder all the responsibility for what happened next.

Morgan remembered the conversation with alarming clarity, and the fact was that it was most definitely not a unanimous decision for the three healthy agents to wander off. The argument had been between himself, Hotch and Prentiss and JJ. Well, really Hotch hadn't said too much because by that point he was struggling to even think straight. Morgan however had been very forceful in his view that JJ, Prentiss and Reid should stay with them where it was safe instead of gallivanting off to investigate the newest crime scene. Reid hadn't said much either, presumably because he didn't want to get caught in the wrath of several angry profilers. Morgan bet he wished he had agreed with him and Hotch now.

"Yes?" repeated Doctor Miller, "Are you sure about that Agent Morgan?"

"I'm sure," said Morgan firmly.

A disapproving look crossed Miller's face. It was perhaps the first time he'd shown actual annoyance at their obvious lies and omissions and Morgan felt a childish thrill of satisfaction.

"Fine," said Miller shortly, "Would one of you please continue with the story?"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Five more minutes, mom," Reid mumbled, pulling the covers over his head. JJ and Emily grinned at each other.

"Sorry, Spence," said Emily in a soft voice, "But it's almost school time."

"Noooo," came the muffled voice of Reid again. "I don't wanna go."

It was really not the time for this, but the two agents couldn't help but smile at their young co-worker. But then Emily shook her head and JJ felt her heart sink.

"Doctor Spencer Reid, you get up out of that bed immediately. We have work to be doing," said Emily loudly.

Reid immediately sat up and pulled the covers off his head, "Emily?" he said blearily, rubbing his eyes.

"Afraid so," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"What happened?" he said, stifling a yawn.

"I have no idea," Emily admitted, "Whatever it is though it can't be good."

"Doctor Brennan is dead," JJ felt herself saying mournfully.

"What!? How?" asked Reid sharply.

"I'll explain when you're dressed," said Emily pointedly, then she headed to the door. "I'll see you in Hotch's room."

--

"What can you tell us about the body?" said Reid once they had all congregated in one room.

"There were no pentagrams and no sign of anything Satanic," said Emily sadly, "The unsub must have realised Brennan was getting close to his identity and so had to kill him."

"Poor guy," JJ muttered, looking away from the group.

"Anything else?" Reid prompted.

"It looked like he was facing his killer and I think he'd been hit more than once," replied Emily.

"So either the unsub was angry," said Reid musingly, "Or the first blow wasn't fatal…"

"I don't see why they'd be angry," Morgan contributed from his half sitting position. He seemed to have slid down the wall since propping himself up there.

"Meaning that the unsub wasn't strong enough to kill with one hit," said Emily, continuing with Morgan's train of thought.

"Maybe," Morgan agreed.

There was a short silence while everyone was lost in their own thoughts.

"What do we do now then?" said Reid.

"We go and investigate the new crime scene," said Emily, sounding surprised that he should even ask.

"Woah, hold up there, Prentiss," said Morgan quickly, "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"No, if you think we're letting you three go anywhere alone you're sadly mistaken," said Morgan, attempting to fold his arms and look imposing.

JJ suppressed a sigh. It didn't happen often, but when Emily and Morgan started arguing it became less about the subject matter and more a competition of who could stay stubborn for the longest. But guilty though it made her feel, she almost hoped Morgan won this one.

"What do you propose we do then, Morgan?" said Emily, narrowing her eyes, "Just leave those two guys to deal with this alone?"

"Of course not," Morgan retorted, "We need to wait for backup. Splitting up is _not_ a good idea."

"I don't want to be the one to tell any new victim's family that we didn't save them because we were too scared to leave our hotel room," said JJ quietly, at once wishing she hadn't spoken.

"And I don't be the one to tell your parents that you were killed because you didn't have enough backup when facing down a couple of serial killers," Morgan snapped.

Reid lifted his head up then with an alarmed expression. JJ wondered if he was thinking about how his mother would take the news of his death. Not that JJ thought for one second that any of them would die.

"We aren't going to die, Morgan," said Emily, pulling a face, "We're just going to look at a crime scene."

"No you're not," said Morgan stubbornly, "You're staying right here."

"I'd like to see you stop us," replied Emily, adopting the same tone.

"Don't be ridiculous," cried Morgan, "I don't know if you think you've got something to prove but this is a stupid idea!"

A fleeting look of hurt crossed Emily's face at this, "Is that really what you think? That I'm so selfish that my desire not to leave this village in the hands of psychotic serial killers is more about me than wanting to prevent more death?"

"That's not what I said," was Morgan's quick reply.

"That's exactly what you said. And besides," said Emily grimly, "You have no authority over us, and as Hotch obviously is in no state to make any decisions right now, I guess you can't tell us what we can and cannot do."

Everyone's eyes shifted to Hotch's prone form lying in bed. His pallid complexion would have been noticeable to a child and his ragged breathing could be probably be heard in the next room. JJ had to look away. She couldn't bear to see anybody in pain, let alone her boss, whom despite his outwardly solemn demeanour, she'd always had something of a soft spot for. The thought of him leaving them, as well as his young son, was much too difficult to think about.

Morgan's head turned to face Emily once more, the anger fading from his bloodshot eyes. Emily smiled weakly at him.

"I'm sorry," she said, almost sadly.

"I know," he replied in a defeated tone, "You have to go."

Emily nodded and placed a comforting hand on Morgan's knee.

Not quite sure what had just happened, JJ glanced briefly at Reid. He was actively avoiding eye contact with her though and staring down at his shoes. JJ wasn't sure if it was because he was still lost in his own little world or if it was because he felt uncomfortable with the arguing. Probably a bit of both, she decided.

"Don't forget the radio," Hotch said faintly, startling everyone in the room.

"We won't," Emily promised.

--

They walked relatively slowly to the church. JJ suspected it had something to do with the fact that none of them really wanted to get there. Even Emily who had been so insistent of them going was in no great hurry. Plus the tension in her stance was pretty hard to miss.

It didn't escape either her or Reid's attention when they passed Doctor Brennan's surgery. There was no police tape and absolutely no sign that anything amiss had happened. It made JJ sick. Had they even moved the body? Who would have moved the body? Brennan was the only doctor in the village as far as JJ could tell. She wondered if he had any family. Even if he didn't, in a small town like this he was bound to have lots of friends. Everybody knew each other in these types of places.

"We can't save everyone, JJ," said Reid softly, obviously having noticed the expression on her face.

JJ's head whipped around so she was facing Reid, "Yea, great," she said shortly, then after a pause, "Do you feel better now?"

"Um…Not really," said Reid, looking down.

Suppressing the guilt, JJ turned her attention back to the road where Emily walked a few paces ahead of them. If she had heard her and Reid's exchange she didn't show it. Not that there was really anything she could say.

The sight of the church loomed before them. It was strangely beautiful in the morning light and the gentle rain. The gardens all around it were obviously very well cared for and even the small graveyard seemed well looked after. Even the really old tombstones had not been overrun with weeds as they would have been in most cemeteries.

Looks, of course, could be deceiving though, and JJ mentally steeled herself for whatever they were about to find. They still had no idea what to expect, but based on her expansive experience in the job she could make an educated guess that it wouldn't be good.

They were greeted by the sheriff's deputy who sprinted out to meet them. His face was a pasty white and he had a strange look reminiscent of a caged animal.

"What happened?" asked Reid immediately.

"We don't know!" replied the deputy, turning to lead them to the church.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" JJ asked, not sure if she really wanted an answer.

"He's just gone!"

"Who's gone?" said Reid loudly as they stepped through the open doors.

"Father Mathew!"

"You mean he's been kidnapped?" asked Reid, nonplussed. Kidnapping was not a part of the profile.

"That's right," said the Sheriff grimly, as the profilers drew closer to him at the front of the small church.

"How can you be sure?" said JJ, her eyes darting quickly around the impressive hall. It was exactly what she was expecting. Everything was old and worn but cared for and loved. "He might have just gone for a walk."

"Um…I think that's unlikely, JJ," said Reid in a strange voice.

JJ took a deep breath before turning to see what Reid was looking at. She felt a thrill of horror as she saw the sacrament. It had been smashed to little pieces. She wasn't a massively religious person herself but she knew what an attack this was on the church. Then her eyes fell downwards to the top of the altar and she had to fight back the nausea.

Written, in what she guessed was blood, was a message. It said, 'The traitor will be the last to die'.

"Sebastian Black found it," said the sheriff, answering the question Emily had just asked. JJ tried to pay attention. "He came in to do some routine cleaning and noticed it straight away."

"Where is he now?" said Reid thoughtfully, "Do you know if he moved anything?"

"He says he didn't," said the deputy weakly. "He's sat in Father Mathew's office."

Reid looked up at Emily who gave a sharp nod. Even though she'd been on the team for the least amount of time, for some reason Reid and JJ both saw her as being in charge for the moment.

"JJ," said Emily, breaking JJ from her musings, "While Reid is speaking to the witness, will you go outside and let Morgan and Hotch know what's going on?" She handed JJ the walkie-talkie.

"Sure thing," she said, quite eager to get away from the blood stained altar. She suspected Emily had guessed how she was feeling and had sent her outside for just that reason. JJ didn't mind.

She and Reid walked off in different directions while Emily stayed in the church and spoke to the sheriff and deputy about the significance of the word 'traitor' in the message. Once she was outside she tried not to pay attention to the way the atmosphere had shifted to something oddly threatening. The church didn't seem nearly as picturesque as it had done ten minutes ago. It also seemed to have become inexplicably darker during that time. Well, JJ thought as she stealthily glanced at the thickening clouds drifting across the sky, maybe not so inexplicably.

People had obviously started to notice that something strange was going on and had begun to gather around the church. She felt a twinge of alarm at the look of fury on some of their faces.

"What's going on?" one woman shouted, despite only being about ten foot away. "Mass is starting in ten minutes."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," said JJ, trying to sound cool and collected, "But there have been a few setbacks. Mass will have to be cancelled for today."

"What do you mean, 'setbacks'?" one man demanded, marching right over to where JJ stood. "I thought you goons were supposed to be patrolling to stop anymore 'setbacks'!"

"Please calm down, sir," replied JJ quickly, attempting to quell the panic that was rising in her as people began to assemble around her. "We just need to close down the church for today. As soon as we know anything, we'll share it with the rest of you."

"Why don't you share what you know with us right now?" said the same man angrily.

JJ took a reflexive step backwards, "Sir, it would be counter-productive to share all our knowledge while the killer is still at large."

"Oh? So it's definitely one of us then is it?" the man spat. "And I suppose you have proof of this?"

The man towered over her and JJ tried not to flinch at his harsh tone. It was difficult to ignore the immediate outcry that followed his words though.

"Look, if you'll all just keep-" suddenly the man grabbed hold of JJ's wrist and she gasped in pain.

"Don't you 'keep calm' me," the man thundered, "My friends have died! And you don't seem to be doing anything to stop it."

"Please-"

"I want some answers!"

"BROOKS!" a voice suddenly shouted. "What the bloody hell are you _doing_?"

The man, Brooks, quickly let go of JJ's wrist and she stumbled backwards and away from him. She jumped in fright as two hands clamped themselves around her upper arms but then relaxed as she realised it was Emily.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, concern written all over her face. JJ nodded mutely and then turned back to the crowd.

"You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself!" Thorn was shouting angrily. "Mobbing that poor Agent…I thought better of my town!"

There was another chorus of disapproval and Deputy Dave quickly had to physically restrain Brooks as he lunged forward. Even to the crowd though, this was taking the ambush too far. The energy seemed to leave the group and suddenly everyone seemed rather less angry and significantly sadder.

"Look, we'll have another meeting tonight," said Thorn. "I'll explain everything then." He stopped another rise in volume with a raise of his hand. "Until then though, I need everyone to go home and let me and the agent's do our job. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a dark mumble of consent and gradually the crowd thinned until all who was left were Brooks and who JJ assumed was his pale faced wife.

"Do I make myself clear, Brooks?" the Sheriff repeated firmly.

"As crystal," he spat bitterly.

--

It was because of this hubbub outside that nobody noticed that Spencer Reid had been gone for rather longer than he ought to have been.

**--**

**Author's Note(s): **Sorry for the delay. You know how real life is though I'm sure. Always one thing or another to worry about. Hope I made up for it with this extra long chapter!

Thank you for reading :-)  
Rubiks


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